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age-of-greta · 1 year

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The Lovers

The Lovers represent relationships and choices. Its appearance in a spread indicates some decision about an existing relationship, a temptation of the heart, or a choice of potential partners. Often an aspect of the querent's life will have to be sacrificed; a bachelor's lifestyle may be sacrificed and a relationship gaine, or one potential partner may be chosen while another is turned down. Whatever the choice, it should not be made lightly, as the ramifications will be lasting.

Pairing: Jake x reader & Sam x reader

Warnings: cursing, alcohol consumption, angst, adult content, all the sexual content, minors DNI

Word count: 5.4k

Author’s note: hi!! the LAST chapter is here I cannot believe it! This fic has truly been so fun to write and I cannot thank you enough for following along. With that being said, I am happy to announce I have a new story in the works and will start posting in January! As always, this fic has two parts then and today. I proofread, but typos happen. Epilogue will be out next Wednesday at midnight. Buckle up and enjoy!!!

PART 13:

THEN:

“Listen, I think you could fit in my suitcase.” Jake says, throwing shirts around in his bag.

You laugh at him. “After the spaghetti you made, I’m not so sure.”

Jake looks up at you and huffs a little. “Are you sure you can’t come?”

“Jake” you sigh. “As much as I would like to, I can’t just fly to Europe and abandon all responsibilities. I have an important case coming up next week.”

You had driven to Nashville for the weekend. The boys were starting their European summer tour in a few days and you volunteered to drive them to the airport. You were saddened by the idea of not seeing them for over a month, but in a strange way you thought it would help distance your feelings for Jake. Whenever you were away from him for an extended period of time, you felt it made your feelings easier to push to the side. You had a hunch Jake knew this and that’s why he was especially reluctant to go.

Jake lets out a long breath before responding. “Okay, fine. But we need to figure out a schedule where we can at least FaceTime or something.”

You smile a little at that. “I think that could probably be arranged.”

He walks over to you and puts his hands on your arms. “God, how am I going to go a month without touching you?”

“Technically over a month.” You add.

“That’s it. You’re getting in my suitcase.” Jake says, as he lightly picks you up and takes you towards the bed.

You start giggling your head off. Jake sets you down on the bed and looks down at you. His eyes are soft and gentle, but his gaze is intense. You both stare at each other for what feels like an eternity, then Jake leans in and softly kisses your lips. You feel an aching burn for him in your heart. The next month was going to suck. The kissing turns into a passionate almost make out before you’re interrupted.

“Jake, do you have my backpack in here? Ah fuck.” Josh says, barging into the room.

Jake rolls off of you and sighs. “Josh, remember how we knock before we enter rooms?”

“Yes Jake, I’m aware. However you’re supposed to be packing, not canoodling all over your tour clothes. Also you have a lock” Josh says.

“I wouldn’t need a lock if you knocked. Your goddamn backpack is in the studio behind the amps I think. Now if you’ll excuse me I have a month's worth of canoodling to do, so off you go.” Jake says, getting up and shuffling Josh out of the room.

Josh laughs at his boldness and mumbles some comparison of you two being like bunnies on his way out.

Jake locks the door and turns around back to you. “Where were we? Ah yes, canoodling.”

You burst out laughing at that. “You need to finish packing. You’re going to be so tired in the morning.”

“It’s true I do need to finish packing. It’s also true that we’re going to both be tired tomorrow. I apologize lover, but it’s my last night with you for the foreseeable future and I need to give you plenty of memories to think about when you miss me.”

You try to remain unphased at Jake’s words, but they definitely have you worked up. “Well then you better get to packing and then get over here.”

Jake smirks at you. “Yes ma’am.”

The next morning was chaotic. Everyone was running around trying to pack last minute things and making sure they had everything they needed for their trip. You tried your best to help, but when the arguing started you took yourself out of the equation. It was always like this, frantic, excited, and unprepared when the tour started. But this was a little different, Jake was in a mood to say the least. He has been biting off everyone’s head, but yours. Finally you got everyone in your car and the tour company sent over a truck for the instruments and everything else that wouldn’t fit. You looked over at Jake as you pulled out of the driveway. It seemed like there was a permanent scowl on his face. He lightened it when he met your eyes, attempted a small smile, and placed his hand on your leg.

“Everyone ready?” You asked.

Everyone answered almost in unison. Then you were off. The drive wasn’t too long until you reached the airport. You tried to mellow the vibes as you played John Denver in the background. There wasn’t much talking, everyone was tired and stressed. You could tell Jake was on edge too. You pulled up to the drop off lane and everyone gathered their things. You opened your door and got out while the guys unloaded their suitcases.

“Thanks for driving us! We’ll miss you.” Danny says, as he pulls you into a hug.

“Bye mama.” Josh says, kissing your cheek. “Tell Jake to get his ass off his shoulders please.”

You laugh at him and Jake rolls his eyes.

“Bye Sammy, safe travels.” You say hugging him, he hugs you tightly. He looks down at you and gives you a smile. “Try not to get too bored without me.”

Jake steps in front of you and lets out a sigh while pulling you into his chest. “Fuck.” Is all he says.

“I know.” You say back, softly.

Jake holds you for a minute before you start to pull away.

“You better be off. You’re going to miss your flight.” You say with as much courage as you can muster.

Jake looks down at you with sad eyes. “I’ll text you when we land.”

“Be safe.” You say.

“I will. There’s someone I have to get back to.” Jake says as he smiles at you. “Be good.”

You laugh a little. “Always.”

Jake pulls you into a final hug and grabs your cheek before planting a soft and slow kiss on your lips.

“Jake, I know this is a hallmark moment and all but we really have to go.” Josh says.

Jake lets out a breath and looks at you. “See you soon lover.”

You nod at him and watch him walk away. They all wave as you get in your car. You can’t even tell that your eyes are teary until you’re back on the interstate. This break is going to be good, you tell yourself. It’s going to allow you to bottle these feelings up. When they come back you’ll be detached enough, you’re pretty sure Jake knows that.

“Hi there.” You say, as you answer your FaceTime.

It had been two weeks since they had left for tour and it had gotten easier everyday. You mainly focused on work and spending time with Lana.

“Hey lover. Did you receive something in the mail today?”

Jake asks.

“I did. It smells really nice, thank you.” You say picking up the bottle of perfume and showing him.

Jake smiles. “We were in a small apothecary shop in Paris and I found it. It was so unique, you had to have it.”

“I really do like it. I have a question for you.” You pitch.

Jake hums at you. “Ask away.”

“The first weekend you get back. Are you busy?” You ask.

Jake chuckles. “Yes, very busy actually.”

You frown a little. “Oh.”

“With you lover. I need you to clear your schedule.” He says wearing a smirk.

You huff. “Well there is a music festival in my hometown that weekend. I thought maybe we could go the first day?”

Jake beams a smile at you. “I suppose that could be arranged, but after can you come to Nashville for the weekend?”

You smile back at him. “I suppose that could also be arranged.”

***

TODAY:

“Hi…” Jake said standing in your doorway.

“Oh hi.” You say quietly.

“May I come in?” Jake says.

You stare at him for a moment before taking a step back and opening the door wider for him to enter. Jake walks in and sits on your couch. You turn the TV off and stand there across from him up against the wall. It’s silent for a minute before Jake begins.

“I’ve been wanting to talk to you.” Jake says, running his fingers through his hair. “I just don’t know what to say.”

You sigh a little. “Jake, if you came here to break up with me I have clearly already gotten the message. This is unnecessary.” You say.

Jake looks up at you with a scowl. “No actually that’s not why I’m fucking here. I’m trying to find a way to fucking forgive you- I don’t know get past all the shit.”

You scoff a little and look at the floor. “Seems like you have already moved on.”

“Are you serious? You’re going to say that to me after fucking my brother? You know I saw the picture you two took that night. That dress you were wearing? No wonder you two fucked. You were sober and consciously wanted him to see you like that.”

“You fucking ghosted me Jake! You left me and Sam was there. That’s all. It didn’t take me leaving you for you to find your way with someone else.” You reply with spite.

“Because I brought Jessica last night?” He says standing up.

“Yeah well of course it had to be her Jake. I just don’t know why it couldn’t have been someone else.” You say cowering a little because you know how it sounds.

Jake laughs a little. “You are really not the one to talk here.”

“Then why show up with her last night and then kiss me? What sense does that fucking make Jake?” You say.

Jake sighs. “I only invited her because I knew it would piss you off. I didn’t fucking lay a finger on her like that.”

You’re quiet for a few seconds.

“But you know I could have.” He says taking a step forward. “I absolutely could have fucked her. I thought about it, many times actually. I could have texted her when I was home for Christmas and she would have been eager to come right over. I could have taken her back to my hotel last night and fucked her raw on the desk. In fact I could be fucking her right now.”

You feel like you’re going to vomit hearing Jake say that. Your stomach is twisting in knots and you want to scream and cry simultaneously.

“Okay I fucking get it Jake. Congratulations. Why don’t you fucking go ahead and do it. Go fuck her. You act like you’re so innocent. I was going through it and you said oh well! Fuck it! Deal with it on your own.” You say with rage.

Jake seems to soften for a moment before speaking again. “I know and I’m sorry. I already apologized for that. I think about what would be different if I would have fucking acted differently, but we can’t go back in time can we sweetheart?”

The edge in his voice is back. You want to roll your eyes, but refrain.

“But I didn’t fuck her. I couldn’t. You know why?” Jake pauses and looks at you with intentful eyes. “She wasn’t you. As much as I tried to stop thinking about you I couldn’t. When I saw you last night I was almost brought to my knees. You looked so beautiful in that dress, you changed your hair, you were wearing the perfume I got you. You looked like you were thriving without me and that stung. So fucking bad. The thought of not being your New Year's Kiss burned me up inside. So I kissed you, and I felt better in those three seconds than I had in weeks. At that moment I knew I would never be over you.”

A wave of hope washes over you. You can feel your heart swelling, aching for Jake.

“I tried to call you. Multiple times.” You say meekly.

“I know. I’ve been working through some shit. You did fuck my brother you know.” Jake sighs before continuing. “I can’t even begin to explain to you how that feels. I always knew Sam had a crush on you, it was obvious from the start. Then he flat out told me he had feelings for you. Of course, this was in the beginning when you and I were fucking around. I didn’t stop, because I obviously cared about you too. Then they all found out about us. It was pathetic the way he continued to pine over you, even with my fucking arm wrapped around you. I let it go for the most part, that seemed to have been a mistake.”

You’re quiet. Unsure of what to say, unsure of what to think.

Jake steps forward. “Did you enjoy fucking my little brother?”

You shoot him a glare before looking at the ground.

Jake takes another step closer to you. “Did he make you cum?”

You look at him almost bewildered. “What?”

“You heard me. Did. He. Make. You. Cum.” Jake says, stepping right up to you.

You swallow hard. “Jake don’t-“

“Answer.” He says.

Your heart is pounding in your chest. “Yes.”

He breathes in before he continues. “Was he better?”

“No. Of course not. You know that.” You say making a face at him.

“Do you love him?” He says, almost in a desperate way, pain behind those words.

“No Jake. Not like I love you. I love no one like I love you.” You choke out, as your heart sinks.

Jake stares at you for a moment before moving closer, only inches away from you. His eyes are searing down at you, he looks hurt but also like he wants to fuck you until you can’t move. You don’t hesitate to look up at him, you have hot tears formed in your eyes and your throat has a lump in it that burns profusely. Jake wraps his arms around you and pulls you into a hug. Once the initial shock wears off, you hug him back tighter. You’re both breathing shakily and you don’t know what this means for you, but it feels good. Hot tears stream down your face and collect onto Jake’s flannel. He holds you for a few minutes before releasing you and kissing you softly. His lips are warm and electric and fuck have you missed them. You kiss him back gingerly, but then Jake deepens it. His hands start to roam around you, and you’re putty in his hands. You think you’re about to have passionate and needy sex, but that dissipates when Jake puts you up against the wall. His soft kisses soon turn aggressive, and he’s digging his hands into you now. Jake bites your bottom lip before stopping for a second.

“I love you angel, but tonight I’m going to fuck you like the slut you’ve been. Remember your safe word?” Jake asks, wiping the tears off of your cheeks.

You nod your head wide-eyed. He still loves you. “Yes.” You squeak out.

“Say it.” Jake growls.

“Lavender.” You half whisper.

Then his lips are back on you. He’s being so rough, but fuck do you love it. His hands find the hem of your shirt and he pulls it over your head. You aren’t wearing a bra and his hands are instantly on your breasts. Jake kisses down your neck and slides your shorts off leaving you just in your black panties and fluffy socks. His hands find the swell of your ass and he grabs it hard, biting down on your collarbone simultaneously. You moan out a bit and start to get exceptionally worked up. You try to unbutton Jake’s flannel, but he knocks your hands away.

“Nope.” He says.

Jake then kisses you more, guiding you off the wall into your bedroom. Jake sits you down on the bed and steps back from you.

“Look at you. So fucking pretty.” Jake taunts and he unbuttons and removes his shirt. “Such a shame that you’re such a slut. Sluts get punished. Sluts don’t get to cum until I say so. Understood?”

You nod.

“Words.” Jake spits out.

“Yes Jake.” You say.

“Remember your safe word?” He asks.

“Yes.” You reply.

“Good girl.” Jake praises.

He is down to his boxers now, you can see how hard he is. You knew tonight wouldn’t be easy. Jake was going to push you. That excited you and terrified you, but you knew you could take it. More so, you wanted it. Jake is kneeling down before you kissing your thighs, his fingers teasing your pantyline. You’re more than turned on. He pulls your panties around your ankles and starts kissing around your center. Jake dips his fingers into you and you gasp out.

“Mhm. So sweet.” Jake says, almost inaudible between your legs.

You try to sit still, but when Jake plunges two fingers in deeper you tilt your head back and like muscle memory your hand is wrapped in his hair. Jake lets it slide for a few minutes before he feels you start to shake.

“Not so fast angel.” Jake says coming up.

You whimper slightly at the loss of contact. Jake flips you over so your ass is up in the air.

“Gotta do something about those hands.” Jake says walking into your bathroom before returning with your black silk robe tie.

Jake pulls your arms back and ties your hands together behind your back. You won’t be able to touch yourself. Jake runs his hand all over your ass. Lightly smacking. Then he smacks your ass harder, and harder until your skin stings and you’re sure there will be a welp. It hurts, but it also feels so good.

“Fucking whore. Goddamn.” Jake spits out, moaning that last word a little.

It’s probably wrong but that turned you on even more. You can sense that he is removing his boxers now and you are dripping with anticipation. He rubs his member all down your slit as you lightly moan out. Jake doesn’t go slow, he plunges straight into you. You let out a half whimper, half moan, and your whole core is burning. You haven’t been fucked like this in a while and goddamn did you love it.

“Fuck Jake- please.” You whine out hoping he will untie you so you can touch yourself.

“Shut the fuck up and take it, sorority girl.” Jake seethes, annunciating the nickname while thrusting into you.

Hearing that formed a lump in your throat, not of sadness… but excitement? Holy shit. Jake continues to pound into you and he laces his fingers in your hair. He lightly tugs before wrapping that hand around your throat and pulling you up to him. He doesn’t get too aggressive here, you know he would never actually hurt you. He lightly squeezes at your throat causing you to spiral in your pleasure.

“Who fucks you like this?” Jake says in your ear.

You moan out. “Fuck. No one Jake. No one but you. No one could ever make me feel like this but you. No one could ever fuck me like this but you.”

Jake inhales sharply at this; but continues to fuck you. His fingers on his freehand slip down below your navel, swirling around your clit. He’s rewarding you. When you’re close yet again, Jake removes his fingers. You have tears pooling in your eyes from the constant edging. Jake drops you back down to the bed and pulls at the silk around your hands until you’re free. He pulls out of you and flips you back around. He climbs on you and takes your hands holding them both above your head. He dives in and sucks and bites at your neck while entering you again.

“Jake.” You shutter. “Please let me touch you baby.” You whine.

Jake looks at you and then kisses your lips before letting go of your hands. You immediately pull Jake closer and run your hands all up and down his back. It seems that his aggressive edge has softened and he’s close. You lace your fingers in his hair and tug while he slips his tongue in your mouth.

“Fuck. Touch yourself angel I’m about to cum.” Jake says in between kisses.

You don’t have to be told twice. You keep one hand in Jake’s hair and send the other down to your clit. You swirl your fingers and it’s not long until you're throbbing around him.

“Oh fuck.” Jake moans out clamping his eyes shut and his mouth is hanging agape.

He cums right after you start, and you both ride out your orgasms. You’re both a sweaty mess of curse words, praises, and moans. The next few minutes you both just lay there breathing. Jake pressed his forehead to yours and left it there for a minute. When he finally rolls off of you he looks over and quietly asks, “Did I go too far?”

“No, not at all.” You reply still sweaty and fucked out.

“Are you sure?” He asks, furrowing his brows slightly.

“I’m positive.” You say lightly smiling.

“I love you.” Jake says, lowly.

Your heart melts at that. “I love you too.” You say back.

Jake jumps up and tells you not to move while he gets a washcloth to clean you up.

You and Jake had spent the rest of the night talking, crying, and apologizing. You woke up the next morning in his arms. It was January 2nd now and you and Jake had spent all day together in your apartment. You ordered takeout, drank wine, fucked, joked, watched movies, and cuddled. It seemed like things were returning to somewhat normalcy? Jake told you that he wanted things to go back to how they were, before the beach trip. He didn’t want to harp or discuss the incidents. You had agreed, but somewhere in your stomach you felt guilt. Guilt for Sam.

Had you really been stringing him along? You loved Sam, and perhaps if you hadn't met Jake you could see something there. You would never dare say that out loud. But you did meet Jake. You loved Jake. You couldn’t imagine it being anyone else, but Jake. But you wanted Sam to be okay, you wanted your friendship back.

On the 3rd of January you were sitting on your kitchen island in only Jake’s flannel sipping coffee and watching Jake cook breakfast. You still hadn’t replied to Sam’s text, it was eating you up. You and Jake had a blissful almost 48 hours, but it was time to face the music.

“Jake?” You started sipping from your mug.

He looked over at you with a spatula in hand. “Yes lover?”

“What time are you leaving tomorrow?” You ask cautiously.

Jake furrows his brows at you. “I’m not leaving tomorrow. What do you mean?”

Fuck. He didn’t tell you that. Sam did. You had just assumed.

“Oh. Sam texted me telling me he was leaving on the 4th, so I just assumed you all were. He wanted to grab lunch before he left.” You say as your stomach churns.

Jake huffs and stays quiet for a little bit. “Yeah, we were supposed to. But I’m staying here for a few more days if that’s okay.”

You nod your head.

“As far as Sam goes, you should talk with him. As fucked up as all of this is I love you both. This shit should all just be put to bed. Though I don’t mean literally.” Jake says shooting you a look.

You can’t help, but slightly laugh at that. “I just don’t know what to say to him. I feel like I have fucked up royally.”

Jake wipes his hands on your towel hanging on the oven handle. “Yeah well you have. But that doesn’t erase the year plus of friendship between you two. I know you love Sam. I know he loves you too, maybe a little too much. At the end of the day neither one of you are going anywhere. You might as well try and patch things up.”

Jake has a sour tone towards the end, but you know he’s being genuine.

“You’re right. I can see if he wants to meet up tomorrow before the flight?” You question.

“No need. We should all just go to dinner tonight. I need to apologize to Jessica as well. She has been blowing my phone up. I know you’re not her biggest fan, neither am I, but it was wrong for me to use her to make you jealous.”

You huff out at that name. If Jake can let it go, then so can you. “I suppose it’s damage control night then. Have you told your brothers that we are back together?”

“Nope. I haven’t talked to them other than to text them that I’m safe. I’m sure they think I’m out on a bender wallowing in self-pity about seeing you.”

You laugh at that. “Oh you’re not?” You say jokingly.

Jake smirks at you. “Shut up and come eat your french toast.”

You had texted Sam and asked him to dinner, but to invite everyone so you could say bye. You told him that you two could talk at the bar and grab drinks before dinner. You neglected to mention that Jake was coming with you. Josh had texted Jake inviting him to dinner, of course Jake agreed. You were nervous about tonight, but it made you happier that Jake would be there with you.

You had on a black long sleeve bodysuit that dips down a little, with light wash mom jeans with ripped knees. You put beach’s waves in your hair and did a full face as it was night, but also Jessica would be there, so. You wore taupe heeled boots with a gold necklace with your initial and chunky gold hoops. You put on your black and white plaid peacoat, spritzed perfume and you were ready. Jake wore his regular light washed jeans with his chelsea boots. He had on a halfway buttoned black shirt with a flannel jacket over it and his normal necklace.

Jake grabbed your purse for you. “You ready?”

You sigh a little. “Yeah let’s go.”

When you both arrived at the restaurant your confidence was waning. Jake held your hand and gave you an assuring squeeze sensing your hesitation. You had all decided on a casual pub that had decent food, a good bar, and old arcade games.

Jake opened the door for you and you both entered. Jake never let go of your hand. The place wasn’t super big, so you could see everyone and eyes were on you when you entered.

Sam was sitting at the bar. His eyes were on you and he looked incredibly solemn. He had a beer in his hand but paused on sipping when he saw you and Jake enter. Josh was sitting next to him, turned now to look at you two.

You swear you saw Josh’s lips say, “Well I guess we know where Jake was at.”

You flick your eyes over and Danny is at the pinball machine with Jessica. Her arms are crossed and she’s giving you a death stare. Jake kisses your cheek and sends you off to the bar while he heads for the pinball machine. You take a deep breath and smile as you approach Sam and Josh. Josh jumps up and pats Sam on the back before giving you a smile and walking to Danny, who has also been sent away. You take your coat off and sit it on the back of the chair before sitting down.

“Hi.” You say as you get situated.

Sam sighs a little. “Hi.”

“What are you drinki-“ you start but get cut off.

“So you and Jake are back together huh.” Sam says, a statement rather than a question.

You feel your heart sink for Sam. “Yes.”

Sam lets out a small laugh and takes a drink. “Damn. That’s a bummer. I guess when I didn’t see you two together at Daniel’s party, and Jake dragging Jessica around gave me hope. But none of us are dumb. We all knew why Jake decided to out of the blue invite Jessica to Atlanta.”

You bite your lip trying to find the best words to say.

“I still held out hope for us, all this time. I feel like a fucking idiot. I guess it just wasn’t in the cards for you and me.” Sam says, taking a sip of his beer and looking off at the distance.

“Sam” you start trying to take his hand but he pulls away.

“No. It’s okay. I’m not a child and you don’t owe me anything.” He says.

You huff. “Sam, please listen to me. I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry that I let this happen. I’m so fucking sorry if I have dragged you along or given you hope. I’m sorry.” You start to get choked up.

Sam looks like he might cry too. “Hey please don’t cry. You have nothing to apologize for. I’m sorry. I’m just as complacent in this. I should have told you how I felt sooner. This just sucks.”

“I know, but Sam I want you to know how much I love you. You mean so much to me and I don’t want to lose you in my life. You’re my best friend.” You say actually grabbing his hands this time.

Sam sniffles. “I love you too, and more than in the way that you’re inferring. I just want you to know that.”

You look up at him and give him a pity smile.

“But I also love my brother.” Sam clears his throat and continues. “And no matter how much it hurts, I want him to be happy. I want you to be happy. You’re my best friend. Although I can’t be in your life how I want to, I would rather be in your life as a friend than not in it at all.” Sam sniffles. “Plus you need me as a cornhole partner.”

You laugh at that and Sam wipes a tear from your cheek then wipes one from his own.

“Are we going to be okay?” You ask.

“Of course we are, it’s you and me sorority girl. Time heals all wounds- well that and alcohol.” He says raising his beer up to you.

You giggle at that. “I will drink to that. Hey bartender! Can I have what he’s having?”

The rest of the dinner had gone surprisingly well. Jessica left after Jake told her there was no chance he would ever leave you. She was livid, and called you a whore- Jake put her in her place quickly. Danny and Josh tried their best to pretend like everything was normal, but before long it started to feel normal. Drinks kept on flowing, you all shared appetizers, and played the arcade games until the place shut down. When it was time to leave you had given everyone hugs.

“I’ll call you soon?” You say to Sam mid hug.

“You better.” He smirks down at you.

You return to Jake’s side and he puts his arm around you.

“Yeah I’ll be back in Nashville in a week or so for the label meeting.” Jake says to them.

They wish you both well and you part ways. When you get back to your apartment you feel like a massive weight has been lifted from your chest. You and Jake both discussed the conversations you had tonight, and decided that the past was the past. You were ready for your future together. The night ended with you two in between the sheets. You didn’t fuck, you made love.

You laid awake that night while Jake softly snored next to you. You observed his beautiful features as his arm laid across your chest.

All you could think about was the tarot card you pulled on Halloween night. It didn’t matter the true meaning of it or what changed since you drew it. What mattered is that you interpreted how you wanted, how it fit in your life. That interpretation was Jake. It has always been Jake, since the first time you met him in that bar. The way he looked at you, the way he spoke to you, the way he touched you. He captivated you in a way that no one else could. He was who you saw yourself being with forever, through sickness and health.

It has always been Jake.

And it always will be.

• wow can’t believe we made it to the end! Thank you so much for reading, your comments & feedback brighten my day. Make sure to stick around for the epilogue next week :)

#greta van fic #greta van fleet #greta van fleet fic #jake gvf #jake kiszka #jake kiszka x reader #sam gvf #sam kiszka #sam kiszka x reader #the lovers

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jadeile-writes · 4 months

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Fanfic Progress Update 160

Hello, I'm Tired, how are you? I hate January and February, the give me bouts of seasonal depression and that ruins my groove. I'll manage tho. Stay tuned for a sneak-peek for A Sign that you're important at the bottom of this post!

Current WIPs:

A Sign that you're important

Fandom: Sonic the Hedgehog, movieverse

Summary: One month upon his assigment as Doctor Robotnik's assitant, Agent Stone is told to learn sign language. He doesn't know why, and isn't suicidal enough to ask, so he simply rolls with it. Turns out, it's not just a whimsy of the eccentric doctor, even though that doesn't stop the doctor from utilizing it like one.

Progress: Chapter 4 was posted on 11th of January. The fifth chapter will be posted on 18th of January aka the next Thursday. Chapter 5 is finished and ready to be posted. I'll need to do a chapter 6, cause Robotnik really, really wanted to wallow and be gay for Stone for a full chapter, mostly at the same time too. Unsure if chapter 6 will be full length or basically a half-length epilogue, we'll see.

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Life at the laboratory (I'm starting to not like this title, might change it)

Fandom: Sonic the Hedgehog, movieverse

Summary:

"Wanted: a yesman who is capable of operating an espresso machine, has at least a higher IQ than your average amoeba, and is willing to put work before having a personal life, or indeed a life, period. The extra in your pathetic paycheck is good, but the strain in your psyche will make up for the positives. Forfeit your basic human rights and apply today if this sounds like you."

Maybe it said something about Agent Stone - and probably not good things - that the poster in the cafeteria's pin board piqued his interest more than any of his official assignments had for a good long while.

Dr. Robotnik, huh?

Progress: This one will be part one of a two-parter longfic, the first part probably... 10-ish chapters? It's a bit hard to estimate at this point, so the number is subject to change - will probably end up being increased tbh. My weekly writing hour (as in, a specific hour when I sit down and write, no excuses [other than not being home]) is devoted to this fic.

I have the first five chapters completely written. Chapter 6 has been started.

I also have two halfway written chapters that don't yet know their exact placement within the fic (they're scenes that will be slotted in to wherever they feel natural, once we get Stone settled in.)

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Other WIPs I’m not currently working on but intend to get back to Someday™:

PoE Drabbles (Pillars of Eternity)

DC Drabbles (Justice League)

Diaphanous Relations (Forgotten Realms, R.A. Salvatore’s books)

Rolling with it (Zelda: BotW)

Hah, our afterlife is the most hilarious bushwa, dearest! (Hazbin Hotel)

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That’s it for the WIPs! Here’s the promised sneak-peek into A Sign that you're important (Note: the text may end up slightly different in the fic itself due to more editing happening before publishing). Enjoy!

Turned out, even super advanced hearing aids didn’t take well to getting jostled around like maracas at the speed of sound by a hedgehog, getting blasted through an interdimensional portal they hadn’t been tested for, and crashing loudly and violently into Toadstool Tartarus. In fact, the left one went into tinnitus mode and the right one simply shut down completely. It made crawling out of a crashed aircraft much worse than it already would have been by default.

Once he was out and had enough distance to not get blown to smithereens or showered with shrapnel should his aircraft decide to explode, both hearing aids were promptly removed from his sore ears.

“This will put a damper on whatever plan I will begin hatching as soon as I get my bearings”, Doctor Robotnik said to himself, already hating the likely long lasting silence, especially when that included his own voice.

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That’s it this time. See you next Saturday!

Links:

My AO3 My FFnet My Ko-fi Radiohusk Discord Server

#fanfic progress update

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san-fics · 1 year

Text

Fortune And Failure

PV Felinette

(Ao3 / Wattpad)

Felinette November Prompt Week, Tues. (Nov 22): Fortune & Failure

Hey, guys! More fluff for @felinettenovember week and for you!

__________________

She was such a failure!

No matter how much Marinette tried to get the attention of the boy she liked, she couldn’t.

But today, she decided to take her life, – which gave her gifts of magical jewels and as magical enemies, distracting her from what she really wanted, – into her own hands…

Or rather, take it even more firmly in her hands than she did before.

Another failure was that today it was the first day of her period and Marinette felt especially emotional... But she was determined to turn her raging emotions into her own fortune, – at the same time depriving her enemy of the opportunity to use them.

That’s why when the lessons ended, the girl got up from her desk and marched to Felix’s desk before he had time to collect his things. “Listen, Agreste,” She began in an assertive tone. “I’m so tired of your eternal refusals that today is the last time I ask you to go with me to the cinema, and you will agree to it, otherwise I’ll hang you upside down on the Eiffel Tower and go home to drink tea!”

Felix looked at her with wide eyes, – an expression of surprise so uncharacteristic of his forever distant face. And although he didn’t know the secret of her identity and didn’t suspect that she really could carry out her threat, – for a moment the boy looked at Marinette as if he believed her.

Probably because she always spoke to Felix softly, treated him to macaroni since she tricked him into telling her what his favorite flavor was, and quite unobtrusively, – even a little timidly, – invited him to the cinema.

And the way she spoke to him today was a completely different approach.

“That’s my girl!..” Chloe sang quietly, smirking at Marinette.

The blond had already told her many times that Felix needed a good push, but Marinette always thought it was more about love and care than an actual push in the butt. Though now, looking into his face and finding much stronger effects of her actions than she could ever get from him, – Marinette was no longer sure what exactly Chloe had in mind while giving her love advice.

Finally Felix came to his senses and cleared his throat. “Miss Dupan-Cheng, I’ve told you many times that my private time is…”

“Oh no!” Marinette interrupted, grabbed the bag from his hands, and began to put his books there herself. “You’re not gonna sing me that song again!” She zipped up his bag and shoved it back into his hands. “How can you ever fall in love with me if you never give me a chance to communicate with you outside of these walls?!”

“But I…” Felix began, but she cut him off again.

“You’re not in love with me, I get it!” She snorted irritably. “But how can you pass up the opportunity to know a person who is so sincere towards you and not give them a chance?! Maybe after one date you’ll decide that you were right and never want to see me again…”

Felix opened his mouth to argue, but she stopped him with a hand gesture and continued. “But then you’ll know for sure that you were right and you won’t look back all your life on a missed opportunity!” She took a breath, using the fact that the boy seemed to finally consider her words, because his face went from indignant to thoughtful. “Or maybe you’ll find out that you lost a lot of my time and your own time while refusing to go on a date with me and you’ll no longer want to let me go!” She blurted out with a new breath and fell silent, waiting for his reaction.

Felix rolled his eyes, clearly skeptical of the last option, but this time he was in no hurry to send her off.

“You put the question in an interesting way, Miss Dupan-Cheng.” He finally sighed. “Your conditions suit me, although I don’t consider it necessary to spend so much time on something that is already obvious to me.”

Marinette opened her mouth to launch another tirade, but it was Felix who stopped her with a hand gesture this time while standing up from his desk. “I’ll pick you up at seven.”

And before Marinette fully realized that she finally got her date, he left the classroom.

She slowly turned to her classmates, blushing as her adrenaline began to dissipate, and sat down on his desk – suddenly losing all the strength.

For a moment, her friends looked at her dumbfounded – Marinette didn’t expect this from herself, what to say about the others?! Then the whole class burst into applause, loud “Go get him, girl!”, “That takes the cake!!” and quiet “There’s no arguing about tastes…”

But after all, she was Ladybug, she brought good luck to the whole city every day, and she could finally take some fortune for herself!

But it seemed that her attempt to catch luck again turned into a failure, because as soon as Felix picked her up and they drove away from the bakery, a white flash swept through evening Paris, and since usually there were no ball lightning here, one could guess that this was a new Akuma...

Felix ordered the driver to stop, jumped out of the car with the short “I’ll look for help, take her home!” – to the driver and even shorter “Stay in the car!” – to her, and ran away.

Marinette didn’t have time to suffer over a ruined date, because Ladybug couldn’t stay in the car while the Akuma was flying around the city, so she told the driver to drop her off and ran to find a place to transform. But before she reached a secluded corner, she was picked up and carried away.

She turned to see her partner, who was holding her in his arms with a very concentrated expression. “You’d better be somewhere safe now, Miss.” He said sternly and jumped over to the next roof, clearly carrying her in the direction of the bakery.

“How do you know where I live?!” She yelled rather than asked, indignant that she had been kept from fulfilling her obligations.

Chat Noir ran without slowing down, and soon they landed on her balcony. “I love sweets from your bakery.” The hero confessed. “Just uhh… memorized your face.” He explained as he lowered her to the floor.

“Hmm.” The girl nodded, thinking about how their lives could easily intersect without their knowledge, and she could probably see Chat Noir without even knowing it was him. “Thank you for… getting me home.” She added and muttered under her breath. “Although you’re not the one who was supposed to bring me home tonight…” Resentment that Felix had run away from her, – even if otherwise she herself would have to do it, – didn’t leave her.

Chat Noir had already turned away to jump off the balcony, but stopped and turned back to her. “Maybe he isn’t worth your attention then?” He suggested, looking at her carefully.

For a moment Marinette stared at her partner in surprise from the fact that he guessed that it was about a boy, then took an aggressive step in his direction. “You don’t know what he’s worth! Maybe he’s worth everything to me!” Emotions raged in her again, jumping from resentment for Felix to boundless love and adoration for him and anger at the cat for interfering in her business. “Maybe he’s worth this whole city just by the mere fact of his existence!”

The hero looked at her dumbfounded, – a blush lit up on his cheeks, – but Marinette was too engrossed in her tirade to give it any special meaning. “Maybe my only chance was to go on a date with him tonight and prove to him how much he means to me and how much I could mean to him! And that stupid Akuma ruined my life! And his life! And he’ll remain alone in a cold house and I’ll remain surrounded by a loving family, but also alone, – because all this is useless when he isn’t with me!”

Marinette didn’t notice how, with every phrase she said, a young man in a black suit approached her step by step, – and woke up only when his arms carefully hugged her and tears flowed down her face.

“I just... just…” She muttered, trying to hide her face on his chest, but Chat Noir lifted her chin towards him and Marenette broke off, staring at his face in confusion.

“He really wasted a lot of time refusing to go on a date with you and hoping that the girl he was in love with would accept his feelings.” He spoke softly, and ran his hand down her cheek, wiping away the tears.

His words seemed familiar, and reminded her of something important, but Marinette’s mind, clouded by emotions – it’s good that Hawk Moth already had a victim today – couldn’t quite place them.

“He really no longer wants to let you go.” Chat continued, and as her eyes widened in overwhelming realization, he leaned down and touched her lips with his.

Marinette froze – too many thoughts and feelings fell on her at that moment, but the softness of his lips quickly replaced the thunder in her head and she surrendered to the kiss, wrapping her arms around his neck and clinging to the boy with her whole body.

“Felix, I…” Marinette began when he finally pulled away from her slightly, looking at her like he’d never looked before, – even when she was wearing a mask and he confessed his feelings to her.

“I know.” He whispered and pulled her closer to him.

“No, listen, Felix, I…” She tried again.

“Even if you say you don’t like me anymore, I won’t let you go, Marinette.” The boy interrupted again. “Because I resisted your pressure with all my might and am no longer capable of it. And even though I still can’t completely forget her, I’ll do everything to make you happy and you’ll never feel alone, because I’ll be with you.”

Marinette pulled away and looked at him, – she never expected to hear such warm words from Felix, and her heart immediately melted from feelings for him even more than before, – when she fell in love with his confidence and tenacity.

But no, she needed to focus. “Felix, I…”

Chat Noir pulled her into another kiss, muffling her words between their lips, then finally let go of her and took a step away. “I really need to go now, there is an Aku…”

“Félix Agreste!” This time Marinette interrupted him herself. “I do love you, but if you don’t let me finish, I’ll really hang you upside down on the Eiffel Tower!” Marinette took a deep breath, inwardly clung to her luck which she accidentally just shared with the boy she loved, and plucked the previously unremovable ring from his finger, letting the magic fall off him and leaving a dumbfounded Felix in his normal clothes. “I’m Ladybug. And I just broke your curse.”

Yes, perhaps today Marinette’s failures have definitely turned into fortune.

And not only for her.

__________________________

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talentforlying · 6 months

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@savagecowboy: Meta Topic: I’m sure canon wise this fluctuates a lot, but I’m curious on “your take”. Does Constantine genuinely think he is a “savior” type, like he is meant to be a hero to help prevent the evils of the world? Is he more of a “it’s a dirty job but someone’s gotta do it? Or is it ultimate reluctance, “if I could retire tomorrow I would”? I feel like you see a bit of all 3, but is any 1 more definitive than the other at his core? — SEND META TOPICS.

there's absolutely a bit of all three involved, and his moods fluctuate sharply enough (i tend to classify him in periods of highs and lows) that he has genuinely believed all three at different points in his life, but i think he has a desperate desire to be a savior, to make up for all the ways he's fucked up previously in life and have a slim chance of doing something good enough to earn his way out of eternal damnation, and i think that desire exists because he believes he's the opposite of one: at his base level, beneath the bravado and arrogance and pride, he quite genuinely considers himself a poison to people. he thinks this mostly on an interpersonal level rather than to the world at large — he's toxic to friends and family, but he prevents apocalypses and worldwide disasters enough to think he actually can do some good for humanity as a whole — but it certainly spreads through the well when he's in a darker mindset.

at his core, i think he's a combination of the last two. he's very, very much someone who would retire tomorrow if he could, he's lived his life hand-in-hand with guilt and violence and grief and the depravities of the human soul almost from day one and he is 70 goddamn years old now, he is so fucking tired. there is nothing he wants more in life than to settle down and be forgotten by the world. that said, he is also one of the biggest obstacles in his own way here. as much as he would find immense relief in no longer being approached as a defender of the desperate and the lost, he has also never been able to look away from people in trouble when he knows he's capable of helping them; it's a dirty job, but if he's the only one willing to do it, then he'll do it. he'll probably regret it, and it'll probably drag him further into other people's drama and politics and mess, but he can't just close his eyes and pretend there's nothing happening.

and yeah, it's a noble and tragic impulse and all that, but there's also just the fact that he's a nosy old bitch à la miss marple, with a narcissistic belief that he is always the only one willing to do the hard tasks and people would be hopelessly lost without him involved. so he does it to himself when he's not being manipulated / dragged kicking and screaming into it first, really.

#savagecowboy #he's always got good intentions but he's also always got the Worst execution you've ever seen #constantine at all times: i'm fucking 70 please jesus christ leave me alone #also constantine at all times: ohohoho what's this....a mysterious evil omen beckoning me further into the dark? what could go wrong #( headcanons. ) I'M JUST LIKE THE BASTARDS I'VE HATED ALL ME LIFE.#( answered. ) THIS IS JOHN CONSTANTINE. FUCK OFF.

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reveks · 9 months

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Im loving the AUgust art so far, also talk about waking in evening please i want to hear about it -funky slugcat

Thank you! I hope I can stick to committing this month and do all 31 days, even if it means doing multiple a day (which I am capable of doing I think). Every little engagement with them, be it likes, rbs, or even asks like this, makes me so so happy.

Anyways! Waking in Evening! Fun facts, it was inspired by the Sky: CoTL song by the same name! (Below is a link if you wanna give it a listen; it’s short but my favorite out of all of them). This song plays when you load up the game during dusk/night hours, and the first time I heard it, I was in the midst of drawing Grimm as a bat. The song and the art gave me a faint idea but I never really took it anywhere.

Until now.

I recently took a long break from Sky during the Season break, which is a two-ish week period between Seasons for players to relax. Seasons last around 9 to 11 weeks and are a pretty big deal in Sky, offering limited time cosmetics and events, so this break is pretty necessary. Regardless, when I logged into Sky for the first time in a while, I was once again greeted with WiE (due to my habit of playing at night, when friends are on and I won’t be disrupted by work).

The song, along with me going through old drawings shortly before, made me think of this au. Fair warning, it’s still on the drawing board, and what you saw was concept art and ideas

Art in question

The world is split into five known realms (also inspired by Sky) - Isabreak, Dawnlyn, Bluelyn, Dusksyn, and Shadesyn. Grimm originally hails from the Shadesyn realm - a realm locked in an eternal night cycle. The day starts with dusk and ends with the beginnings of dawn, at which dusk takes over and the new days begins, meaning daytime doesn’t exist.

Grimm, like many of the other residents there, are used to living in such conditions and have adjusted to them. Grimm’s a nocturnal creature of some kind, most likely a mix of things, the most prominent traits being those of a moth, bat, and owl. He gets tired of the endless night, though, and leaves after a while to start anew in another realm

Revek, on the other hand, is from Bluelyn- the complete opposite of Shadesyn. It’s locked in the daytime cycle and never experiences true night. Almost every single creature here is capable of flight through one means or another. Revek’s species is unknown, but he does have direct links to mantas (these are creatures from Sky but I’m borrowing them and changing them a bit to fit the world better). Mantas are one of the creatures inhabiting Bluelyn, and are used for a wide variety of purposes. However, his manta traits makes him somewhat of an outcast among other citizens. Revek runs away, but in the process of landing, he suffers from a head injury that results in him having retrograde amnesia, making his memory foggy.

It's also worth noting that while citizens of these realms are capable of traversing to realms that are not their own, they rarely do so. They do not get along well at all. Bluelyn and Shadesyn's citizens have an especially hot ire for one another.

Where do both of them go? Isabreak- the only realm that experiences all times of day. This is where Hallownest is, as well as a few other kingdoms. Hallownest, though, is the largest and most populated, thriving for centuries. Lured in by its promise of a comfortable life, both Grimm & Revek make their way to the kingdom to settle down.

The pair don't meet until Grimm notices Revek's poorly-hidden oddities. His wings are not those of any bug, and they glow. This, as well as Revek's attire, makes him pretty easy to slot as a Bluelyn citizen. Grimm isn't too keen on Revek being there, but as he's trying to intimidate Revek to leaving, he notices how the spider doesn't seem to remember shit. He isn't too sure which realm he's from, nor how he got to Isabreak. Grimm, feeling sympathetic for the spider, decided to temporarily help Revek in order to try and get him home and out of his life.

This is all I have right now lmfao. The worldbuilding I've done for Waking in Evening surpasses some of my other aus and I'm not happy about it (joking)

Song link below!

youtube

#funky slugcat anon #hollow knight #my art #threnodoodles #waking in evening au

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ushijimasleftpinkytoe · 10 months

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Sweet Escape

Miguel O'Hara x afab reader

Minors don't even think of interacting (I can't stop y'all but you've been warned)

Summary: You have terrible insomnia. Ever since dating Miguel, it's gotten better. However, because he is a superhero, he's often away for long periods of time. This time, it's really bad. In a desperate phone call, Miguel comes home to help you fall asleep.

Tags/Warnings: smut (18+), oneshot, cunnilingus, unprotected sex, penetration (p in v), soft dom Miguel, slightly hard dom Miguel, choking( barely), cursing (lots of f bombs), google translated Spanish, possibly ooc Miguel, aftercare, lots of nicknames

Word count: 2,926

It’s been 6 days. 6 days since the last time I got any form of sleep. Usually, it would never be this bad, but Miguel has been away on his Spiderman activities so I’ve been alone for about two weeks. I tossed and turned in bed, the sheets long discarded onto the floor. I cried in frustration. I just wanted to sleep. In sheer desperation, I called Miguel, pleading that he would answer. After about the third ring, I heard his voice.

“Hello? Angel, everything okay?” He asked, the subtle sound of rain in the background. I sniffled and cleared my throat before speaking. “Are you crying?” He asked.

“I…Miguel I can’t sleep. It’s been 6 days.” I whimpered, trying to not sound as desperate as I felt.

“Mierda.” (Shit) I heard him curse under his breath. “I’ll be there in five.” He said, hanging up before I could protest. My eyes widened as I looked around my place that was an absolute disaster. 5 minutes was nowhere near enough time. I did the best I could, shoving things under my bed, into the closet, throwing trash away, and placing dishes that were in my room in the sink. After about 3 minutes of rushing around, I changed into cleaner pajamas and ran my face under some cold water. That was all I had time for before I heard his portal appear in my living room downstairs. I rushed back to my bed, laying in it and pretending to have not just raced around my entire house. I heard a soft knock on my door before a very tired and bruised Miguel appeared from behind the door.

“Angel?” He asked softly. “Are you okay? I can hear your heart racing from here.” He added, walking to the bed and placing a knee down to hover over me.

“I um…cleaned a bit.” I chuckle, turning to face him. He chuckled as well, looking at my tired eyes.

“You know you don’t have to do that for me.” He whispered, pushing some hair out of my face. I shrugged.

“Felt like it.” I mumbled. He nodded, taking a seat at the foot of my bed by my legs. He ran a soft hand over my leg as he spoke.

“So…what’s going on? Why can’t you sleep?” He asked with an adorable tilt to show his concern.

“I just…I’m so tense, and I keep having nightmares. I feel like my brain just won’t shut off.” I sighed, flopping onto my back. Miguel hummed in response, continuing to rub his large, calloused hand up and down the expanse of my ankle and calf.

“Did you miss me?” He suddenly speaks up, looking deeply into my eyes. There was something about his tone that made me question his motives in asking that question.

“Of course I did. I always do when you’re gone for a long time.” I answer with a small pout. He hums again, nodding as his gaze shifts down to the hand that massaged my leg. After a moment, he leaned forward, laying beside me. He placed his hand around my waist, pulling me into his body.

“I missed you too.” He whispered, leaning in to capture my lips with his. He kissed me slowly, his lips just barely moving against mine in a lazy kiss. He seemed exhausted as well. I wrapped my arms around his neck, bringing my body as close to his as I could. “You always feel so good in my arms.” He mumbled against my lips, his breath mingling with my own. After what felt like an eternity but in reality was only a few minutes of soft kisses, he pulled away to look into my eyes. “I have an idea to help you sleep.”

“You do?” I ask curiously, not catching on to the mischievous glint in his eyes.

“Mhm…” He hummed, leaning down to place a few soft kisses on my neck. “How about I…” He trailed off, kissing up to the shell of my ear, nibbling it softly. “Fuck all those thoughts out of that pretty little head of yours? Help you release all that tension.” He whispered, his tone laced with need and desire.

I let out a small gasp in response, any words I had left my throat for a few moments.

“Aren’t you tired too?” I question, noticing the bags under his eyes.

“I’m never too tired to fuck you good.” He answers, kissing back down my neck, leaving small love bites as he goes. The noises spilling past my lips grow louder when he kisses the sensitive spot on my neck, focusing most of his attention on the same spot. “May I, querida? (Dear) Please.” He pleaded. I could feel his bulge brush against my thigh as he asked and I knew he wasn’t just doing this for me.

“Of course, Miguel. ‘M always yours.” I answer, brushing a hand through his thick, chocolate brown hair.

“Gracias.” He murmured against my skin, placing an appreciative kiss against my collarbone before trailing lower. He kissed down my arm then moved to my stomach, pulling my shirt up. He pulled it up over my breasts, his eyes shining red when he saw the supple skin. “Tan Bonita.” (So pretty) He murmured against my skin, kissing down the valley of my breasts before connecting his lips to one of my nipples, licking and sucking gently. To keep his hands busy he fidgeted with my neglected nipple with one hand while trailing his other hand up and down the curve of my waist.

Soft whimpers and moans escaped my mouth as he gently bit down on my nipple, pulling up to stretch the sensitive bud before letting my breast drop from his mouth, watching it bounce. He repeated this action for a while before doing the same to my other nipple until they were both slightly red and swollen from his nibbling.

“Baby please.” I whined, squeezing my thighs together.

“Hm?” He asked, still suckling my breast.

“Want you lower.” I pleaded.

“Lower…here?” He asked, kissing down to my navel, slipping his tongue into my belly button and making an unnecessary slurping sound. The sensation made me giggle from how ticklish it was.

“N-no, lower.”

“Angel, be more specific please.” He spoke up, looking up at me as he continued to lick my navel and around my stomach. I blushed deeply, knowing he wasn’t going to give me what I wanted until I said exactly what I desired.

“C-can you eat me out? Please?” I begged, hoping it was enough. He smirked, his pointy canines showing from behind his pretty swollen lips. “Of course mami. All you had to do was ask~.” He teased, pulling down my shorts. He got a glimpse of the wet spot on my gray panties, making him swallow hard. “Damn…my poor baby is so neglected. You got so wet just from a few kisses and touches. Poor thing.” He said in a voice so sweet I could tell it was fake.

He dipped his head down, placing a soft kiss on both of my inner thighs before sinking his teeth into the waistband of my panties, pulling them off of me to expose my dripping cunt. He hissed at the sight. “Maldita sea, tan jodidamente húmedo para mí.” (Damn, so fucking wet for me) He took my panties from his teeth, holding them up to his nose and taking in a long sniff. I went red with embarrassment. “Fuck mami, you smell as good as you look. Now, let’s see how you taste…even though I already know you taste exquisite.” He said, muttering the last part to himself.

He stuck his long tongue out, dipping it past my wet folds and licking a slow and long stripe up all the way to my clit. I let out a soft whine at the feeling, my eyes glued to him as he took his first taste. I watched as his body shuddered and his eyes rolled into his skull.

“Fucking christ, you taste even better then I remember.” He groaned, repeating the same motion of dipping his tongue into my folds and licking up to my clit. The simple action had my legs slightly shaking around his head. “Let me die here.” He moaned into my cunt. After having enough of tasting me, he latched his mouth on to my sensitive bud, sucking harshly as his eyes trailed up my body, fixing themselves to stare into mine. I threw my head back the second he latched his lips onto my clit, my thighs trying to close at the sudden surge of pleasure.

Miguel was quick in wrapping his beefy arms around my legs to keep me still so he could eat in peace. He let out lewd moans that rivaled my own, getting off to my taste and moans. He moved his tongue in quick circles around my clit to add to my pleasure while adding in a single finger to start prepping me.

“Fuck my baby is always so tight, huh?” He asked, adding a second finger to scissor my hole open. I moaned in response, falling back onto the bed and closing my eyes. Normally, Miguel would stop completely until I looked at him again, but this time he was feeling nice since I was so tired.

“M-Mig...fuck~” I cried, tears of pleasure already forming in my eyes just from being eaten out.

“My poor baby. It’s been too long for you, hm?” He asked, moving his fingers faster inside my gushing cunt while still licking circles on my clit.

“Yes, yes, y-yes…been too long.” I moaned, my legs trembling in his arms.

“Close?” Miguel asked, his voice muffled.

“C-close.” I responded, one hand gripping the sheets while my other hand found purchase in his pretty hair, tugging gently.

“Let go angel. I’ll catch you.” He went back to eating me out like a starved man, pumping his fingers and curling them to hit that perfect spot each time.

“Cumming, cummming, fuck!~” I cried loudly, the burning feeling that was in my lower belly finally snapping, an intense orgasm rippling through my body in waves of white hot pleasure. Miguel licked up every last drop that I gave him, going as far as shoving his tongue into my twitching hole to slurp out the rest.

“Good fucking girl.” He praised, slowly sitting up to look at me. His eyes raked over my body as I lay flat on the bed, chest heaving up and down as I caught my breath. He leaned forward, placing a soft kiss on my forehead. “Did so good f’me.” He whispered, kissing my lips so I could taste myself.

“Love you.” I said softly, still trying to catch my breath.

“Love you too.” He whispered, kissing my lips one more time before allowing his spidersuit to fade into nothing, exposing his rock hard cock. My eyes slowly opened to see him fully naked, situating himself between my thighs. “Gonna fuck you till you can’t think so you can finally sleep, mkay?” He asked, stroking his cock a few times, gathering some of the precum and spreading it over the shaft. I nod, spreading my legs further to make more room. He places a hand on my upper thigh, squeezing softly. “Okay?” He asked, his tone a bit more stern.

“Okay.” I answered softly.

“There ya go.” He muttered, lining his drooling tip up with my entrance. After swiping the tip up and down my folds a few times, he slowly sunk himself into my pussy, filling me up to the brim in one go. After he was fully inside, he took a moment to let me adjust. “S-shit...I can feel you clenching. Stop that.” He slapped my thigh softly to emphasize his command.

“Sorry…it’s been a minute.” I whimper, trying my best to relax. After a minute or so, my muscles start to relax, making it easier for him to move.

“Mmm, better.” He grumbled, slowly starting to pull the entirety of his length out before shoving it all back in. With every thrust inside I felt the air getting knocked out of my lungs. Miguel’s size has never changed. He’s always been massive, but I’ve never gotten used to the brutally deep thrusts he gives. His thrusts slowly became faster but remained just as deep. I could barely keep my eyes open as the tip of his cock managed to hit that delicious spot inside of me without even searching for it.

Miguel grunted above me, slamming his dick inside over and over, getting lost in his own pleasure. After a moment, I saw his eyes shoot open to stare into mine. “Speak to me Hermosa. How’s it feel?” He asked, his voice strained.

“G-good. S-so good.” I cried, fat tears of pleasure falling down my cheeks.

“Just good, huh? Those tears are telling me a different story. Se honesta conmigo.” (Be honest with me.)

“G-great, amazing, fucking superb…I can’t…can’t fucking think.” I groaned, my pussy spasming around his thick and veiny cock.

“Don’t get smart with me or I’ll fuck you till the sun comes up. We’ll make it day seven of you getting no sleep.” Miguel warned, thrusting faster and harder.

“Fuck, Miguel!” I cried, gripping the sheets. Miguel shook his head, gripping my legs and folding me in half as he pushed my thighs against my chest.

“Wrong. What’s my name angel?” He asked, pumping faster and faster. I shot my eyes open, my heart fluttering and pussy clenching at the sight. Above me was the love of my life, completely feral and pussy drunk as he thrusted like his dick was going to fall off if he didn’t. I shook my head, not wanting to say it. He knew it was embarrassing for me and that’s exactly why he made me say it. “Say it or I stop. What is my name?” He commanded, slowing down his thrusts.

“Daddy, please! P-please, don’t stop!” I begged, all dignity and rationality out the door.

“Again.” He growled, placing a veiny hand around my neck and squeezing just enough to cut off a bit of airflow.

“Daddy~!” I moaned again, my eyes rolling into my head.

“Atta girl.” He praised, thrusting at his original, punishing pace. He let go of my leg with his other hand, licking his thumb before pressing it to my already sensitive clit and rubbing harsh circles.

“Oh…fuck.” I groaned, my legs shaking. I felt that coil inside of my stomach snap without warning, my pussy walls fluttering around his cock, my entire body shaking in ecstasy. I heard Miguel gasp above me, slowing down his thrusts for just a moment before picking up with added fervor.

“Fuck baby…you squirted.” He spoke in a strained voice, sweat dripping down his forehead. My eyes shot open when he said that. Sure enough his lower abdomen was dripping in my essence and my pussy sounded gushier then it used to before my orgasm.

“Shit ‘m sorry!” I whimpered, my pussy sensitive as he continued to thrust.

“Shhh, none of that.” He quickly cut me off, squeezing my throat again. “Do it again.” He said, rubbing my clit harder and thrusting like a madman in an attempt to get me to squirt again. I felt that familiar coil build in my stomach as he overstimulated my cunt. In seconds the coil in my tummy snapped and I came again, squirting even more all over my thighs and his abdomen. “Fucking Christ…good girl. Good fuckin’ girl.” Miguel praised, his thrusts becoming erratic and less calculated as he got close to the edge. After a few more thrusts he came undone, spilling his seed deep into my womb as his hips stilled.

His cock pumped all of his seed into my pussy, making sure I was absolutely filled until some ended up spilling out. After a moment of catching our breath, he slowly pulled out, making me groan. His cum slowly spilled out of my pussy and onto the sheets.

“Did so good for me.” I heard Miguel whisper followed by a kiss to my forehead. I felt him slowly get up off the bed, most likely to go get a rag to clean the both of us up. After coming out of the bathroom, he took a seat by my legs, gently running a warm rag around my thighs and sensitive areas. After cleaning us both up, he threw the rag into the bathroom from where he sat on the bed, muttering a “I’ll pick it up later,” to himself. I opened my eyes, sitting up and grabbing the shirt that was discarded onto the floor to slip back on before leaning over to grab a clean pair of underwear from my dresser to put on as well. While I was changing, Miguel stripped the bed of the sheets, laying a blanket down in the meantime until I could wash my sheets.

“Feeling any better?” I heard Miguel ask, getting my attention. I took a seat on the bed, looking up at him.

“Much better.” I chuckle softly, laying down and pulling an extra blanket over me.

“Good. Think you can sleep now?” He asked in a hopeful tone, laying down next to me.

“Mhm.” I hummed, curling up next to him.

“Good.” He repeated, placing a soft kiss to my head before resting his chin on my head. “G’night hermosa, sleep well.” He whispered.

“Goodnight mi vida (my life). I love you.”

“Love you too.”

#miguel o'hara #into the spider verse #x reader #fem reader #miguel x y/n #miguel smut

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luxaofhesperides · 1 year

Text

the taste of something sweeter

It's 11/11, Pocky Day, and Na Bori is dropping hints.

It takes a bit for Lee Jihye to get them. In her defense, she's tired and math has fried her brain even more.

also on ao3.

. . .

“Hey,” Na Bori nudges Lee Jihye’s shoulder with her own, “Do you know what day it is?”

Lee Jihye lifts her head and squints at her, trying to get her brain to work. She’s running on three and a half hours of sleep and has been staring at her math textbook for the past ten minutes without understanding a single thing in it. She’s barely functioning, leaning most of her weight against Na Bori as they fail to study.

“Huh?”

“Do you know what day it is?” Na Bori repeats. She’s not looking at Lee Jihye. Not teasing her either, which she never fails to do when Lee Jihye gets like this; all distracted, confused, and sleepy.

It makes Lee Jihye pull her focus together, trying to figure out if something’s wrong. Is it a birthday? No, she would have been planning Na Bori’s present at least a month beforehand. A holiday? Also no. Then… something to do with school? Is there something happening at school she needs to prepare for when the lunch period is over?

“Uh…” Lee Jihye starts, trying to think past the fog of exhaustion in her mind, “Tuesday? Wednesday? What day is it?”

Na Bori huffs a small laugh, dropping her head back with a small smile. “It’s a Friday, first off, and secondly, it’s… November. Eleventh.”

“Oh. Wait, it’s Friday already? Sweet!”

“Jihye-yah. I can’t believe you forgot. You literally told me how happy you are that it’s Friday this morning.”

“I’m tired! You get even worse when you’re sleep deprived!”

Na Bori rolls her eyes, and Lee Jihye wakes up enough to gently shove her away. It only ends with Na Bori rocking back to crash into Lee Jihye and sending them both toppling to the side, caught by the arm of the couch.

“Anyways,” Na Bori says, “It’s November eleventh.”

“Okay?”

She stares. Lee Jihye stares back, waiting for her to continue.

There’s nothing special about the date. Other than the fact that it’s a Friday, but those come every week so it’s not a big deal. She really has no idea what Na Bori is trying to get at.

She’s tired and done with school and math is her eternal enemy and she’s warm, between Na Bori’s body heat and the blanket tossed over their legs. Lee Jihye is not thinking. She won’t do it, not in these conditions.

Na Bori sighs, then pulls away.

Immediately Lee Jihye grabs Na Bori’s sleeve, stopping her before she can do more than move to the edge of the couch, and pouts at her. “Bori-yah,” she says, “What is it? Come on, tell me, don’t just leave me guessing.”

“It’s November eleventh,” she repeats, and continues to not elaborate.

“Is it a special day or something? What am I missing?”

Na Bori gives her a long look, and Lee Jihye can’t make out what her expression means. She feels off balance, like she’s just missed a step and is falling through open air.

These moments have been happening more lately. Lee Jihye just doesn’t know why. Nothing’s changed. She’s the same as she always is, and Na Bori is too. At least, Na Bori is the same to her. There’s always a chance that there’s something happening in her life that she’s keeping from Lee Jihye, always determined to deal with it on her own before Lee Jihye catches on and bulldozes her way into helping.

Before she can push and ask what’s wrong, Na Bori smiles and her hesitant and guarded expression disappear as if they were never there in the first place.

“I’m going to grab a snack,” she says, pulling out of Lee Jihye’s grasp. “Want anything?”

“An energy drink?”

“No. Those are terrible for you.”

“We regularly stuff ourselves full of junk food, I don’t see how an energy drink can make things any worse.”

“The last time you got anything with that much caffeine, you rearranged your entire room and started making origami frogs to give to everyone in school,” Na Bori says, which. Yeah. That’s true. It was a few hours of energy and excitement and then she crashed so hard she felt like a zombie the next day.

“Just get me whatever,” Lee Jihye amends, “I need something sweet to keep me going.”

For a moment, it looks like Na Bori is going to say something more. She lingers, and Lee Jihye looks up at her, blinking rapidly to keep her eyes from closing completely and sending her into an unplanned nap. Then Na Bori shakes her head fondly and walks away, leaving Lee Jihye alone in the living room with only her textbook to keep her company.

Outside, the harsh November winds rattle the window, and Lee Jihye pulls up the blanket, glad she’s inside. Na Bori’s apartment is nice, all warm colors and welcoming, little knick knacks and decorations everywhere. Her parents are busy, usually at work save for a few hours at night when they can sleep and sometimes in the mornings, but they’re kind and always happy to host Lee Jihye.

It’s much nicer than her own sterile, lonely home. She speaks more to her grandparents than her actual parents, even though her grandparents live in a small farming town and only know how to use a landline despite her many attempts to get them used to cell phones.

Her own parents…

Lee Jihye never likes thinking about them. They feel the same way. She just isn’t the daughter they wanted.

But Na Bori’s parents make her feel wanted. This apartment is more her home than anything else; anywhere with Na Bori is where she belongs, really.

She’s really, really glad Na Bori is her friend. She’d have been so lonely otherwise, and just the thought of living a life without her have tears welling up in her eyes.

“Here,” Na Bori says, jumping over the couch to rejoin her. She’s got an armful of snacks, ready to be spread out on the table and shared. “I wasn’t sure what to get, so I got everything. Here—wait. What’s wrong? Why are you crying?”

Lee Jihye closes her eyes, forcing back the burn of tears. “I’m not crying.”

“You’re about to cry. I was only gone for two minutes. What’s wrong, crybaby?”

“Nothing. I’m just glad you’re here.”

Gentle fingers brush her bangs back, and when Lee Jihye opens her eyes, Na Bori is there, sliding her hand down her jaw before dropping it back into her lap.

“I’m here,” she says. “Here, eat something sweet. That’ll cheer you up.”

Lee Jihye extracts herself from the soft cushions of the couch long enough to look through the bounty of snacks Na Bori brought. She grabs a small box of strawberry chocolate bites and settles back to get comfortable again. Beside her, Na Bori grabs a larger box and opens it, pulling out a silver bag.

As soon as it’s opened, Lee Jihye holds out a hand. She gives Na Bori her best puppy dog eyes, silently asking for some.

Na Bori glares at her, then rolls her eyes with a smile. “You’re lucky you’re so cute, or I wouldn’t be sharing at all,” she says, dropping a stick of pocky into her hand.

Lee Jihye grins, ignoring the butterflies in her stomach from the comment. It’s just a joke, nothing to be taken seriously, so Lee Jihye ignores her feelings and buries them away. She has plenty of practice at doing it; there are a lot of feelings she’s been hiding when around Na Bori, and she’s almost always with Na Bori.

“You’re the best,” she says, biting into the chocolate side of the stick. She shakes some of her strawberry chocolate drops out into her hand, then passes them along to Na Bori.

She dumps her math textbook onto the floor, finally giving up on it. She hasn’t been able to focus on it at all without dozing off, and she hates studying anyways. Why bother doing the impossible? She has snacks to be eating with Na Bori!

It’s only when she finishes her first stick of pocky that her brain finally connects the dots.

“Today’s pocky day!” Lee Jihye all but shouts.

“Finally,” Na Bori says, “You’re the one who brought it up last week. I thought you’d remember.”

“You know I don’t remember things. Ever. I’m too busy daydreaming.”

“About what?”

You, she doesn’t say. “This and that, you know how it is.”

“Tell me,” Na Bori says, knocking her shoulder into Lee Jihye’s.

“Oh, I don’t know. The most recent one is just imagining what’s going to happen next in that drama I was telling you about.”

“Boring. I thought you’d say something like rescuing princesses in your daydream cinematic universe.”

“That sounds boring. That story’s been done a thousand times before! What would you be daydreaming about, then?”

Na Bori bites into a pocky stick, the snap purposefully loud. Her gaze feels heavier suddenly, like she’s pinning Lee Jihye in a spotlight. “Spending time with you. Graduating with you. Being brave.”

Lee Jihye doesn’t know why her breath catches in her throat, but it does. There’s something in the air, something electrifying. She’s standing on the edge of something, ready to jump if only she knew what was waiting at the bottom.

Being brave.

She is not brave. She’s a crybaby, but she’s also the one to get rid of any bugs that manage to get near Na Bori. She’s not brave or smart or special, but Na Bori sees something in her that convinces her to stay.

She is not brave, but she thinks she’s willing to try for this.

“You kept bringing up the date,” Lee Jihye says, lowly, as she tries to get her thoughts together. She gathers her courage, ready for the free fall. “You brought pocky. You want to play.”

Na Bori licks her lips and Lee Jihye’s eyes follow the movement, dropping to her mouth and staying there. Blindly, she reaches out and pulls out a pocky stick from the bag and holds the tip between her lips. She forces her eyes up to see the rest of Na Bori’s face just in time to see her lean forward.

She bites the other end of the pocky stick, her own half-eaten one held loosely in her hand.

The world’s stopped moving outside of them. The world has narrowed down to them, sitting next to each other on the couch, barely breathing as they slowly close the distance between them.

Lee Jihye can’t hear past her heartbeat in her ears with each centimeter that disappears between them. She tilts her head to the side can’t stop from finally closing the distance, pressing her lips to Na Bori’s just briefly before pulling back.

She feels dizzy, the world disappear from beneath her as she thinks I just kissed Na Bori.

The chocolate of the pocky is sweet on her tongue. She swallows it down mechanically, still staring at Na Bori’s lips. She can’t look away. She’s frozen in place, waiting for something to happen, waiting for something to give so the world can start turning again.

And Na Bori cups Lee Jihye’s face and kisses her again.

There’s nothing brief of chaste about this one; it’s messy and biting and sweet, years of hidden desires coming out all at once as they gasp and chase after more.

Lee Jihye’s hands end up on Na Bori’s waist. She can’t remember putting them there, but she can’t focus beyond the soft warmth of her skin, the movement of her lips, the small noises she makes.

It’s everything she’s ever wanted. It’s every dream she’s had that she’s tucked away in her chest, just out of sight but always there. It’s the feeling of flying, making the jump, and landing in Na Bori’s arms.

She’s wide awake now. The world is clear and the fog of exhaustion has disappeared beneath the giddy rush of feeling that accompanies every kiss.

“Bori-yah,” she breathes against her lips, and she can feel Na Bori smile.

“Jihye-yah,” Na Bori returns, pulling away, and pressing a finger against Lee Jihye’s lips when she moves to follow and kiss her again. “Jihye-yah. Wanna play again?”

There’s still a nearly full bag of pocky laying forgotten on the couch. They don’t have all that much time before their lunch period is over and they have to return to class, but this would hardly be the first time they’ve skipped.

She grins and pushes the pocky box away. “I think I know a better way to play.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.” And Lee Jihye tugs Na Bori’s hand down and kisses her again and again and again.

It’s the last thing either of them say for quite some time.

#orv #borijihye #lee jihye #na bori #orv fic #my writing #for once i am letting them be sweet and happy together

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mlobsters · 14 days

Text

supernatural s15e17 unity (w. meredith glynn)

thinking on last night's fight between sam and dean, and that has to be one of my least favorite persistent character traits of dean, how he gets mean when he's freaked out/upset/scared/whatever. curious to see what i notice when i start the show over. first time i recall really commenting on it when sam was dealing with hallucifer at bobby's in 7x02. wonder if that's something noticeable going way back.

DEAN So that's how it's gonna be? You give me the silent treatment? SAM I'm not sure what you want me to say. DEAN That you get it. Like, I said, killing Amara, Jack dying... that's the only way. SAM "The only way." "Our one shot," "our last chance." You ever get tired of saying stuff like that? DEAN We don't have to like it, alright, but you and me, we gotta get it done.

you know my perennial complaint of later seasons is this jumping to conclusions about someone killing themselves is the only way to solve a problem without trying other options so, i'm vibing with you samuel

amara is so pretty and that wild glitter jacket is kind of amazing, and everything is better than that weird cleavage gazing dress she had on the first time we met her

AMARA I wish we'd gotten to know one another. That's my fault. Maybe when all of this is over, we can?

they are going out of their way to humanize amara here. talking to the old lady in the park sure did a number on her apparently

DEAN But when the time comes, we can count on you, right? AMARA Like I told you when we first met, you and I will always help each other.

pile on the guilt and doubt and sympathy

SAM Jack, look... I wish you'd have been up front with us. But sacrificing your life for a cause... takes a lot of courage. I still think it's wrong, though.

just thinking about how sam usually is also ready to pack it in if necessary. okay for me to die but not for you is the winchester family way though.

DEAN Chuck is back. You wanna take a knee? SAM That's not what I'm doing. DEAN Wh... You don't even have any leads. SAM What do you have, Dean? Honestly?! What, Billie's sending you to Santa Fe to... to meet up with her mystery guest that's gonna perform the "final ritual," or whatever that is, and turn Jack into a suicide bomb? DEAN Sam, you and me, we have to do this, it's in the book! SAM Oh, Chuck's "Death Book," right? Come on, man! Blindly following orders?! Lying to Amara, sending her to her death? Does any of this feel right to you?!

like when dean's book the only solution was the eternity of torture in a box at the bottom of the ocean with michael, right? knowing they found another way around that problem seems like good evidence that death's books aren't the only way

DEAN It doesn't matter how we feel! You know what? Stay. Stay. But somebody's gotta be the grownup here. SAM Yeah, well, someone has to keep fighting for Jack. DEAN He knows what he signed up for! SAM Last I checked, we don't give up on family. DEAN Jack's not family. I know how you feel about the kid, okay. I care for him, too. I do. But he's not like you. He's not like Cas. He's just not.

again, literally gasped and said dude! what a horrible thing to say a) period b) when the kid is still in the same building as you. and of course he walks in to hear it. devastating.

no one should have to hear that. that's some john winchester level fuckery. heart breaking for jack

hereby revoking dean's dad status. though he already threw it in the garbage like the samulet.

and didn't he just have a heart to heart with the kid a few episodes ago about still being mad about mary but trying to move past it?

from 15x14 last holiday DEAN Okay, I’m just going to say this, okay? Just get it out there. Jack. I’m trying, okay? I really am. But what you did, that’s not easy to forget. Now I was angry with you, for a while. And maybe I still am a little bit, okay? But I’m not gonna let some evil Mary Poppins take you out. Do you understand?

CHUCK The Winchesters have gotten to you, huh? Figures-- you and Dean have that whole weird... thing. AMARA That wasn't you? Writing? CHUCK Ugh! Not that part. Gross. AMARA Well, I'm not on Dean's side. And I'm not on yours. Someone needs to defend this world.

dean's got his special thing with cas and amara. sam's got... jack, i guess. outside of the special thing that trumps all special things that sam and dean have with each other. and apparently amara's on team free will now too

AMARA Oh, I think I do. You want to evaporate every kernel of existence because the Winchesters won't do what you say. CHUCK It's not about that. It's about everywhere I look, I'm reminded of my failures. Like, why did I go with carbon-based life? Why not silicon? Or yttrium? Zeroing out-- starting fresh. That's what I need.

DEAN Listen, Jack, I don't know what you heard back there, but... JACK You don't have to say anything. And... you don't need to be sorry. I'm not like Sam or Cas. I... I understand

i'm giving dean the death glare rn

JACK Billie said... this is where it ends.

least he has the decency to look somewhat distressed

alessandro juliani as adam / the magicians s2e4 as sawbones / altered carbon s2e5 as jack soul brasil

JACK You hate him. ADAM Oh, no. I've been wanting this for going on 300,000 years. Took me that long to figure out how to do it, too. JACK Wait— killing God is your plan? ADAM Yeah, Billie's been giving us a hand, yeah. Sera and me, this is our baby, yeah. She kept me alive this long so I could see it through. All we've been waiting on is you.

lol okay sure why not

well looks like dean's having some doubts now with the high angel's "meant to be" bullshit so

ADAM You'll collapse into a living black hole for divine energy. One nothing can escape— not the darkness, not God himself. But once it starts... you can't stop it.

hokay

DEAN Hold up. Just... What I said to Sam, you didn't need to hear that. Alright? Not now. Not with the weight that you're carrying— for us, for this world. Jack... I don't know how to explain it, but what I found out about Chuck... it's like—it's like I wasn't alive. Not really. You know, like, my whole life I've never been free. But like, really free. But now... now me and Sam, we got a shot at living a life. Without all this crap on our backs. And that's— that's because of you. So, I— I— I wanted to say... I need to say... Thank you, Jack. Thank you.

didn't need to hear it, but not gonna say sorry. of course want to take the nugget of him and sam getting the chance to live a real life, but this was just such a miserable shitty thing to have dean do. jackles delivered this really well and it felt sincere, but i'm not over it

not sure i get what the title cards with the characters' names on it is. referencing something, i imagine

all right so sam and cas are gonna try to find the key to death's library to have a chat or whatever

THE ENTITY The Empty was supposed to be mine. Not even God held sway. But lies, sweet little lies. Billie said when she takes over, she'd make it all better, but then your busted-ass friend in the trench coat came along and he gave me these trust issues. SAM Billie wants to take over? THE ENTITY Become "New God." Classic narcissist, right? She's all tingly for the rules, the good-old days. SAM What is that supposed to mean? THE ENTITY Everyone back to where they belong... realities, dimensions, graves. What should be dead dies, angels off Earth, demons back to Hell, and I go back to sleep. Or I'm supposed to. Except, again, trust issues. But you, you're Sam Winchester. You're in God's book. SAM That's... That's Chuck's Death Book? Have you read it? THE ENTITY Only Billie can read it, dummy. She always talked about how you should be so dead, except she needs you. So, maybe if I hurt you... Hear that? Get your scythe down here, Billie, or your boy's toast.

well, i did not see billie trying to be the new god but i didn't really consider that she might be malicious, just that she wasn't always right. and this is all absurd but i'm happy to get more rachel miner time

CHUCK: Dean. Brought to the edge of doubt. His sense of duty, his rage winning out in the end. CHUCK: And poor Sam. Always gotta know everything. Can't leave well enough alone. CHUCK: This is my ending. My real ending.

well, this is all very clever i guess and upsetting.

SAM Because if Billie takes over, then everyone goes back to where they belong. That means everybody from apocalypse world, Bobby, Charlie, they get sent back to a place that doesn't exist anymore. And everyone we saved. Eileen, she... she just dies again. And that's just the beginning.

surely they'd both be dead too

DEAN I don't care if Billie gets what she wants! I don't, man! I'd trade it all— I'd trade 'em all for Chuck in a heartbeat! SAM What about me? Would you trade me?

the $25,000 question. i'm upset that this is getting to me because this entire season has been such a mediocre shitshow for me but sure enough they can cash in on my literal mountain of feelings and attachment to sam and dean

all right. so long, amara. character rehab complete

SAM I know you feel like that right now, okay. I know you do. But you gotta trust me. My entire life, you've protected me— from Dad, from Lucifer, from everything. I didn't always like it, you know, but... it's the one thing in the whole world that I could always count on. It's the only thing I've ever known that was true. So please... put the gun away. Just put it away, and we'll figure it out, Dean, we'll find another way, you and me. We always do.

well, that's devastating too. jared is so good. and that the put protecting sam from john and lucifer in the same sentence, well. sums up my feelings about john winchester too. the show definitely has gone through times of rehabbing his character so you know it's satisfying to hear this, if terribly upsetting as well.

i feel like meredith glynn really gets their relationship. i'd have to go do a survey again but i feel like whenever she's got an episode, i can count on some good brother content

well. that's a way to end the episode.

sigh. i'm worn out

something something the power of sam and dean's love can withstand and overcome even god's manipulations

#supernatural #spnwatch #spn 15x17 #meredith glynn #spn clip #sam and dean mush #spnhiky #hiky #alessandro juliani #the magicians #altered carbon

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eternally-writing · 3 years

Text

helping hands | jjk

genre: fluff and angst

rating: G (no swearing or sexual content)

pairing: Jungkook x reader

theme: parent!au, idol!au, husband!au, one-shot

word count: 3k

warnings: none

synopsis: Parenting in general? Hard. Parenting while your husband Jungkook is away on tour? Extra hard.

special thank you to @justasparkwritings for beta reading this and @moccahobi for helping me with the title!

banner by me!

--♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡--

It had been 2 weeks since Jungkook had left on tour. You would think that after being in the industry for 10 years he would have a little more leniency with his schedule, but even after the birth of your little girl, Jungkook couldn’t seem to get out of a 3 week tour around Japan and Korea.

It seemed like the Earth was weeping with you today as the rain battered against your window while you made what seemed like your 15th cup of coffee for the day. Your daughter Gidae was for once not crying - and you were eternally grateful since it gave you time to change out of your puke-covered shirt and close your eyes for 5 seconds... as if that was any replacement for the lack of sleep you’ve encountered.

All your friends whose husbands were busy idols or businessmen gave you the advice that “everything falls into place over time when you’re parenting on your own”. That it just magically happened. You’re not sure what memo you missed, or if there’s some book you forgot to read, or if worst of all, you lacked some parental intuition that everyone else possessed. Jungkook had left 13 days ago, and nothing had fallen into place.

Between Gidae being up all night every night, the pile of puke covered laundry sitting in a pile in the corner of your room, the dirty dishes in the sink that had accumulated to the point that you were eating your microwave meals with plastic cutlery, you definitely felt like a failure.

And probably the worst part of it all was that Jungkook wasn’t here to help you. This wasn’t the first time Jungkook left on tour while you two have been together, but it was the first time he had left you since Gidae had been born. The first time he had left you, a first time mother, alone with your child for an extended period of time. The first time you needed help and couldn’t ask him for it.

As if on command, while you were bracing yourself on the counter in exhaustion, your phone began to ring.

Incoming call: hubby kook ♡

As you pressed “accept call”, you could immediately heard the hustle and bustle of the backstage crowd. Too tired to be the first to say hello, you waited to see how long it would take for him to realize you were on the other line.

“Hey Y/N, just checking in before the show! How are things?” cheered Jungkook.

You could imagine what Jungkook looked like as he talked to you: already dressed in his first stage outfit, a makeup artist blotting away at the nervous sweat on his forehead, him grinning ear to ear with his hyungs and bursting with excitement for performing.

On a normal day, if you had maybe actually gotten some sleep or eaten at least one meal that didn’t come out of your freezer in the past week, you probably could have mustered a convincing “good! How’s the show going?” But you were on your last straw, and it was already giving way.

“Bad Jungkook. It’s bad. I haven’t slept at all for as long as I can remember. I have no clean clothes or clean dishes, I haven’t showered since you left so I smell like a pungent mixture of puke, sweat, and god knows what else, and Gidae misses you and won’t stop crying.So yes, it’s horrible without you here.”

You knew that wasn’t what Jungkook expected to hear,the sharp intake of breath on his side serving as a telltale sign you had caught him off guard.

“Baby I-, I’m sorry, I had no idea.”

You couldn’t stop your voice from cracking as you continued. Your chest was tightening, feelings bubbling over.

“It’s -“ you paused to take a breath. “It’s really hard without you Jungkook. Really really hard.”

Jungkook tried his best to piece together the words over the phone, but you could already hear the speakers in the background calling for Jungkook to head to his position for the start of the show.

“Y/N I-“

“You have to go Jungkook, I know. Bye.”

You didn’t give him a second to recuperate as you ended the call.

No parenting book ever provided you with advice on this. The loneliness, helplessness, and frustration you were feeling right now. Crumpling down to the kitchen floor, you felt like the world was collapsing around you as you sobbed.

As if on cue, Gidae’s cries joined yours from the other room.

--♡--

You woke up slouched in a rocking chair in the nursery, with your hand reaching down to touch your daughter’s in her crib. She seemed to show you some leniency by sleeping more than 2 hours at a time, but unsure of how much free time she’d give you, you figured you might as well get a head start of the day since you felt like you were miserably falling behind already.

While mixing some formula in your kitchen, you heard a knock on your front door. The only people who ever came over were the boys and a couple of your friends, and you definitely weren’t expecting any visitors at 8am.

Frying pan clutched in your hand (safety first, right?), you creaked open your door to see a small woman standing in front of you.

With a cheery smile painting her face, the lady began to speak.

“Mrs. Jeon, I’m Seokjin-ssi’s nanny. I’ve been sent here today to take care of Gidae. Here’s a note from Mr. Jeon.”

You couldn’t help the smile that decorated your face after reading it. After so many years together, Jungkook still managed to surprise you. Taking in that there was now a woman in your house who was basically Supernanny here to help you, you couldn’t help but let out a sigh of relief.

When Jungkook said that you were going to be pampered today, he sure meant it. By a “car” being outside, he actually meant a glorious Porsche with a driver and all your favorite snacks tucked in the backseat. He had booked an entire spa day just for you to get whatever treatments you needed without having to deal with the hustle and bustle of anyone else being around. Simply being in an environment that didn’t always sound like crying and children’s TV shows felt like heaven. A schedule had been waiting when you arrived, including a built in “nap” (multiple hours is just sleep, right?) in one of their private suits and lunch with none other than your best friend. It was the best surprise, and the girl talk you shared was exactly what you needed. Of course the mom guilt crept in, but whenever it did you reminded yourself of Jungkook’s words - you needed this, and only once you take care of yourself will you really be able to take care of your daughter.

You weren’t sure if it was because of the hydrating face mask or the 3 hours of uninterrupted sleep that you were able to get, but you walked into your house with a new pep in your step thanks to the relaxing day that Jungkook planned for you.

Welcomed by Ms. Yeong wearing an apron and bustling around your kitchen, you smelled freshly baked cookies (chocolate chip, your favorite too) and were thrilled at the sight of a clean house in front of you.

Wiping her hands on her apron, she began to speak with that signature smile.

“I’ve cooked dinner for you tonight and also have meals for the next 3 days in the fridge. The dishes are all done and your laundry should all be folded in your drawers. Gidae just had some milk and is now watching some Cocomelon.She woke up from her nap around 3 hours ago.”

In your excitement you couldn’t help giving her the biggest hug, squeezing her tightly. Slowly, Ms.Yeong began to pat your back, unclear about whether this hug was really for you or for her.

“I’m just doing my job Mrs. Jeon.”

You pulled away to look sincerely into her eyes.

“You are seriously a lifesaver Ms.Yeong, I don’t know what I would have done without you.”

After patting your back again, it was her turn to be sincere.

“You’re a good mother, Mrs. Jeon. I know it may not feel like it sometimes, but you really are. Gidae is lucky to have you as a mom.”

Tears began to prick at your eyes, but unlike yesterday, these were happy tears. With all the failures that you had felt in the past two weeks, it meant everything to hear those words from someone, to get some confirmation that you weren’t completely messing things up.

Unable to make any words come out of your mouth, all you could do was nod in appreciation at what she was able to do for you today. Your eyes glimmering with unshed tears said all the words that Ms.Yeong needed to hear.

As she walked out the door, you made a mental note to message Seokjin and thank him for finding the angel on Earth who saved you today.

--♡--

Picking up your daughter from her crib, you cooed and brought her to you. Settling into your rocking chair, you cradled her gently in her arms.

“Mommy missed you today, babygirl, and I know you miss daddy.”

At the mention of the word “daddy” you could see your daughter perk up, looking around and trying to find said male.

All you could do is kiss her forehead. “I miss your daddy too. He’s really amazing, yknow.”

“Amazing, really? I may have said handsome, or sexy, or...”

Your head whipped around to the source of the sound.

And there he was, in the flesh. Jeon Jungkook, the man you had been waiting to see for days on end, was standing right at the door.

“Hi my love,” he said with his silly grin.

Your heart felt like it was bursting as you saw him there, and you couldn’t help but start sobbing your heart out (and I mean ugly sobbing). You felt a waterfall of emotions seeing Jungkook so close.

“Hey hey hey, what’s with this crying? I came home because I didn’t want you to be crying anymore baby.”

Walking over to you, he crouched in front of your chair and started to wipe your tears. Cupping your face in his hands, he pressed his forehead against you.

“I missed you Y/N. I missed you so much.”

You were still reeling from Jungkook’s presence.

“You have no idea how much I’ve dreamed about this Kook. I feel like I’m dreaming.”

Jungkook pressed a short kiss on your lips.

“Well believe it, I’m here for real babe,” he said sentimentally as he peppered your face with kisses.

Picking your daughter out of your grasp, Jungkook lifted Gidae into his hold, lifting her slightly into the air first to make her giggle. Putting on his best stern dad voice, he began his lecture.

“And you little miss, what is this I hear about you causing trouble for your mom?” Questioned Jungkook.

You smiled through your tears as you watched Jungkook go into “dad mode”.

“Before I left you promised you’d be a good girl, but I think good girls don’t cry all through the night and they definitely don’t make a mess with their toys or throw up all over their mommy.”

As Jungkook raised an eyebrow, your daughter looked at him, slightly apologetic, eyes shifting down to the floor, as if she could understand a word of what he said.

“But most of all Gidae, I missed you a whole lot. Your daddy missed you a whole lot.”

You felt like your heart could burst at the way Jungkook looked at your daughter. Even though he might be miles away when he works, you know that he doesn’t love you or your daughter any less.

“I’ll let you put her back to bed, daddy. It is my day off after all, right?” You joked with a chuckle.

Picking up your hand and kissing your palm, Jungkook grinned in agreement.

“Of course my love, go wash up and I’ll see you in bed.”

--♡--

After reading A Very Hungry Caterpillar, The Princess & the Pea, and Rainbow Fish, Gidae was beginning to yawn in Jungkook’s arms. It seemed that it wasn’t just Jungkook who was reluctant to let their father-daughter time come to an end, as Gidae was still fighting to keep her eyes open, and always kept one tiny fist clutched onto the middle of Jungkook’s shirt, as if she was worried he could disappear at any moment.

Wondering what was taking them so long, you peeked your head back in the doorway to watch Jungkook look at your daughter like she was the one who put the stars in the sky. Not wanting to interrupt, you stayed as silent as possible as you watched them together.

“Now I’m gonna say something very important Gidae, and you need to listen very very carefully to me.”

Bringing her up to eye level, Jungkook looked at your daughter sincerely as he continued.

“Sometimes daddy isn’t here and it’s just you and mommy, but I want you to know that daddy loves you and mommy so much, and you’re always gonna be daddy’s little girl, even if I’m not here with you. And I miss you always, so so much. Daddy loves you.”

You could see the tears start to stream down Jungkook’s face, and as much as you wanted to run to him and wipe his tears, just as he did hours earlier, you knew that this moment wasn’t for you. This was for Jungkook and Gidae, and you were sure that he was going to remember this forever.

“You know what would make me so happy Gidae? If you could say the word daddy. Come on - “da” “da”. You can do it!”

He started to bounce her on his lap, exaggerating his mouth movements so much that you were worried that he would accidentally pop his jaw out. His ministrations continued on fruitlessly, with Gidae still staring at him with big doe eyes (a trait she inherited from Jungkook, of course).

Unable to hide your presence any longer, you had to help Jungkook out. “You were only gone for 2 weeks, Kook. She’s still only 6 months old, it’s going to be a little while before she says any words.”

Jungkook shook his head in disbelief. It seemed that Gidae had finally succumbed to sleep in his arms, and he stared down at her again.

“Look at how big she is Y/N, she’s grown so much just in the little while I’ve been gone.”

He looked at you with tears shimmering in his doe eyes yet again.

“Seriously, next time I leave on a tour and come back she’s going to be walking and talking or something.” joked Jungkook as he lightly wiped his tears.

You hugged Jungkook from behind, pressing a kiss to his shoulder before resting your head on it.

“Wherever you are though babe, I’m gonna take photos and videos of all of it so you won’t miss a second of it.”

Jungkook stayed silent as he simply enjoyed having his small family together again.

“You were right earlier you know, on the phone.”

“Hmm?” You hummed in response, unsure of what he was getting at.

“This isn’t working - me leaving isn’t working. I’m not 15 years old anymore, when I could just drop everything and travel the world; I have the two most precious girls in the world with me now, and I need to take care of them.”

Putting his hand in yours, you sincerely looked him in the eye.

“We’re always going to be proud of you Koo, and you know I love watching you do what you love. This may be the hard part, once she gets a little older we could start travelling with you or you could fly back too. Whatever comes our way, we’ll handle it together.”

Jungkook kissed you passionately, hoping his lips could convey what he couldn’t seem to put into words. He repeated your words back to you.

“Whatever comes our way, we’ll handle it together.”

As if Mother Nature was on your side, the rain stopped, leaving the smell of new beginnings wafting in through your window.

--♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡--

If you liked what you read please interact/follow! Thank you for reading♡ - Emily

485 notes · View notes

no-droids · 4 years

Text

Mercy, Sabotage, and Dead Space

(gif credit to @redwyyne-archive)

Part One of The Bet series

Pairing: Poe Dameron/Reader

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 12.7K

Summary:

1. No sex.

2. No touching yourself.

3. No orgasms.

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

***

This.

This shit, right here.

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

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

But then you met… fucking Dameron.

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

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

But this?

This shit? Right here?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Yep, there it is. “Second of all—”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You… aren’t expecting that.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Alright, no, wait—backtrack—

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Fuck.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

A false sense of…

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

… What?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Except, oddly, he doesn’t say much.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Shit. Shitshitshit, did that actually work?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

And then everything goes dark.

No, literally. The stars disappear.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

***

Stay tuned for part two coming soon!!

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

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maemelany · 3 years

Text

Fixing the Broken (Part 3)

Summary: People say that time heals all wounds. In your case, time made it worse.

You’ve been married to Chris for five years, but his absence spoke louder than his words. After 5 years of trying, you’ve decided that you��ve had enough, and you left him. But Chris doesn’t want to let you go; he doesn’t want to give up on your marriage.

Would he be able to fix what you consider irretrievably broken?

Warnings: Angst, tiny tiny mentions of sex

Word Count: 2.6 k

Pairing : Chris Evans x Reader

A/N: I hope you like this one. I can’t wait for your reactions about this one. I can only imagine what @fallenoutofrose will have to say about Chris’s behavior in this part 😂

Enjoy and let me know if you want me to add you to the tag list

Love x Mae ❤️

Masterlist

Prologue , Part 1 , Part 2 Part 4

“It is better to hope than despair.”

-Lailah Gifty Akita,

You finally knocked. After standing in front of that door for what felt like an eternity now, you finally knocked. Your legs felt like jelly, and your heart was pounding in your chest. You were feeling more anxious than the day of your wedding, and the irony of the situation made you almost laugh. Almost, but not quite. You were about to when Lisa opened the door.

She was as radiant as ever, a big, warm smile on her face. Honestly, it surprised you. You knew that she knew. Now that Chris was back, there was no way Lisa wouldn’t know what was going on. That man told everything to his mother.

Lisa let you in, and you followed her into the living room. The house felt like a second home to you. Actually, it felt more like home than your place with Chris sometimes. There was always something happening here. When you left your house, you almost came here. But you felt like it was unfair to Chris. Lisa was his mom, and her house was his safe place, not yours.

“Chris told me everything. How are you holding up honey, are you okay?” Lisa asked you

Her kindness broke your last defence. Her genuine, motherly concern about you made you feel guilty that you didn’t come to her sooner. Lisa had always been so kind to you, taking you in as her own daughter from the moment Chris introduced you as his girlfriend. Your lips started to shiver as you were trying your best to hold the tears back.

“Oh, honey… please don’t cry.”

She took you in her arms, and you broke into tears. It may have lasted five minutes or an hour; you weren’t sure. These days you were crying so much it was just the new normal.

Your best friend had been a great support to you, but she had to. She was your best friend. Chris’s mom was supposed to be on his side, defending her son’s best interest. Not yours.

“Why didn’t you tell me things were that bad, Y/N?” Lisa asked you

You looked away. Somehow ashamed that you thought Lisa would reject you.

“I … I don’t know. Chris is your son, and…”

“And you’re my daughter. Y/N, you’re family. We all love you!” Lisa said, taking your hands into hers. “Plus, I bet some even love you more than Chris,” Lisa joked.

You laughed, feeling a little bit more at ease now. “I’m sorry…” you whispered.

“Don’t be. I am sorry we didn’t see anything,” Lisa said

You shook your head. It wasn’t their fault. They weren’t responsible, Chris and you were. It was your marriage, after all.

Lisa asked for your version of the story, and you could tell she was trying to be as partial as possible. You hated that you had to put her in that situation. She cringed when you told her Chris didn’t notice you were gone until he went to Carly’s place.

“That boy…” she said, shaking her head. “I’m so sorry, honey,” she said, a sad expression on her face.

“It’s not your fault Lisa. Actually, it’s not even Chris’s fault. I can’t force him to stay married to me,” You said

“You think he feels… forced to be with you?”

You shrugged. “I mean… why else would he be as far away from me as he possibly could?”

Lisa watched you closely. You could tell she wanted to say something but was refraining herself.

“You two should talk. Maybe you could solve this…” Lisa said

“I don’t think us talking would do any good. We tried that yesterday; you should have seen how shi… messy it was”

Lisa tried to hide her smile when you stopped yourself from swearing. “If talking to each other doesn’t work, maybe you should try talking to someone else…” Lisa suggested

You frowned. You didn’t see how Chris and you talking to Lisa would help. Yes, Lisa was a wise woman, but as she said herself, she was your mother both. Knowing Chris, he would take it personally if his mother called his shit out about his marriage. You still remembered what happened the last time Lisa agreed with you instead of Chris. He was salty for days.

“I love you, Lisa, but I don’t think talking to you would fix this,” you gently said

Lisa laughed. “I wasn’t talking about me, honey. I meant a therapist.”

“A therapist? Like couples therapy, you want us to go to couples therapy?” you asked.

Lisa nodded. You never thought about that.

“I thought couples therapy was supposed to happen before couples decide they want a divorce.”

“Not necessarily. It could help you express your feelings in a safe place. And, you decided you wanted a divorce, honey. I don’t think Chris agrees with you.”

You frowned. If Lisa thought the warm smile would help you accept the subtle criticism easier, she was wrong. You were even worse than Chris when it came to being right.

You loved being right and hated being told that you could have done something wrong, especially in that very particular situation. You were right. You had to be right. It would kill you to realize you were wrong and left the man you loved for nothing.

“Do you think I went too far…” You said, the tears resurfacing

“Oh no,” Lisa immediately told you. “You did what was right for you, and that’s the most important. I can’t even imagine how you must have felt, alone in that big house.”

A huge weight lifted off your shoulders. Secretly you thought people didn’t understand you. You were married to Chris Evans, living what they thought should be a fairy tale.

Even though you and Chris were what people called a private couple, he would sometimes tell things about you or express his love for you when he was being interviewed. When those things happened, your friends would always send you messages, reminding you how lucky you were.

They didn’t know how far they were from the truth. Most of the time, you were alone in your bed when you were reading their messages. Alone and lonely.

People think they know things about your life, your marriage, but they don’t. They would have to walk in your shoes, feel what you daily felt to actually understand.

When you left Lisa’s house, she had convinced you. She made you realize that even though things between You and Chris were pretty bad, your relationship was worth saving, or at least you owed it to Chis and yourself to try. Even if therapy didn’t work, you still owed it to yourself and Chris to end things the most peacefully possible. Before being your husband, he was your friend. You needed at least that friendship to be saved.

Instead of going back to your best friend’s place, you went home. It wasn’t even a conscious decision. You started driving and found yourself taking the way home. Instead of turning back, you continued. You realized waiting wouldn’t help. You’d waited so much already, now was the time to act.

As you opened your front door, you felt submerged with that particular sent. You were home. Despite what you told Chris yesterday, this house was your home. You chose almost every piece of furniture.

Chris was more than happy to leave it to you; he didn’t understand why you needed so many pillows on the bed or a particular shade of beige for the dining chairs. Instead of explaining everything, you would just ask for his opinion when it was absolutely necessary. Plus, it was hard to decorate a house via FaceTime.

Thinking of it now, decorating this house helped you manage your loneliness for some time. You were proud of every single room, from your bedroom to the laundry room.

You found Chris and Dodger sleeping on the sofa. You weren’t surprised. The couch was probably Chris’ favorite spot in the whole house. You had your office, and he had this sofa.

You were tempted to lay next to them. They felt like home. But you didn’t want to wake Chris up. If there was one thing Chris was lacking, it was sleep. You also noticed the dark circles under his eyes yesterday, and the current situation was not helping his sleep deprivation.

When you noticed a few takeout boxes in the room, you knew exactly how to occupy yourself. Chris used to love your cooking. Your skills were definitely better than his, but as your husband liked to say, one cannot be good at everything. You smiled when you remembered how you would tease him about his horrible cooking skills, and he would remind you how messy you were.

Even now, after thirty minutes of cooking, the countertop looked more like a war zone than a kitchen island.

“It smells good.”

You jumped. You didn’t see Chris coming, and now you had tomato sauce all over your blouse.

“Chris! You scared me!” you said, looking at him.

He was leaning against the opposite wall, observing you. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to.”

You looked at him with more attention. He looked less tired. You wanted to say something, but Dodger was all over you before you could open your mouth.

“Hey, baby. I missed you so much,” you said to your dog.

Dodger started to bark. The high pitch he usually reserved to Chris when he was coming back home after long periods of absence.

It broke your heart.

“He missed you,” Chris finally said

You didn’t know what to reply. You didn’t want to say something that would create a hostile environment for the rest of the evening.

“I need to change myself,” you said, showing your now stained blouse.

You were gone before Chris could even blink. Once in your bedroom, you found everything exactly as you left it. You rolled your eyes, mentally asking yourself how Chris could be so organized. And then you realized he wasn’t that organized. It wasn’t just the bedroom that was exactly as you left it. The walking closet and the bathroom were too.

Chris wasn’t sleeping in your room, and you wondered why.

When you went downstairs, you found him making the table.

“I thought I’d made myself useful,” Chris said when he saw you.

You smiled. That was the kind of evening you used to dream about. You and your husband casually sharing dinner together.

Chris was very attentive, serving you wine, asking you if you needed anything. You wished you could be so relaxed. You wished you weren’t about to drop a massive bomb on him.

“Why aren’t you sleeping in our bedroom?”

Your question surprised you both.

“I… I don’t know. It doesn’t seem… right.”

You looked at each other, your eyes saying more than a thousand words. Again, you were reminded how easy it would be to just give in, to just come back. But it would be a temporary relief, one you would only enjoy until he’d decide to leave again.

It took you the whole dinner, and filling the dishwasher, and watching the first part of a show to gather enough courage and tell Chris you two needed to see a therapist.

It happened before he was about to kiss you. You could feel it in his eyes, the way they became darker, and the way his body leaned closer to yours. You could feel your heart beating faster and the room suddenly feeling hotter than before.

You wanted to give in, you missed his touch, you missed his kisses. You missed sex with your husband. But you knew it would make things more difficult. Sex had never been a problem in your relationship. Actually, it made you forget about the problems. You couldn’t remember how many times you were on the verge of telling Chris you weren’t happy with the situation and totally forgot about it the minute his hands were on you.

“No,” you said, standing up.

You started walking around the room, trying to compose yourself. It was frustrating how all your perfect, well-prepared plans got ruined the second you were around Chris.

“Y/N,” Chris whispered.

“No, we are not having sex!” you half screamed.

You needed to convince not only Chris but yourself that you were not having sex tonight. But looking at him, looking at him, looking at you made things very hard, literally and figuratively speaking.

“We’re going to therapy,” you quickly said

Chris blinked. “I’m sorry, what?”

You cleared your throat. “I said, we are going to therapy.”

You could tell he was surprised. You didn’t know if it was good or bad.

“Y/N… I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

It was your turn to be surprised. You opened your mouth but closed it immediately after. You wanted Chris to explain himself before jumping to conclusions.

“With how public we are and…”

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” you said, anger quickly possessing your whole body.

“Y/N…”

“You’re worried about your reputation? Do you even want us to be together, Chris?” you asked him.

“I’m not worried about my reputation. I’m worried about… our privacy.”

“Chris, therapists have a duty of confidentiality,” You said, raising your voice.

“Well, you won’t believe how many people would break it given the right sum,” he screamed back.

You wanted to scream, anything that would release the frustration you were feeling inside.

“Do you even want to fix this?” you ask, as calmly as you were able to

Chris huffed. “I was begging you to come home with me yesterday. Of course, I want to fix this.”

You crossed your arms. “me coming home right now would not fix things; it would bring us back to this,” you said, throwing your hands up.

“And this is so bad, right?” Chris asked, bitterness in his voice.

“No, this is perfect. This is what I want permanently. It will kill me to come back to this if this is not forever.”

The room went silent. So many emotions went through Chris’s eyes, and you were trying to decode them all.

Chris finally drew a long breath. “I am not going to couples therapy.”

His words stung more than you could have imagined. They also unleashed the silent anger that was rising inside of you since the beginning of that conversation.

But instead of screaming and crying and pleading with Chris, you reached for your handbag. You were done trying to negotiate with him. You were done trying to spare his feelings.

You removed the divorce papers that had been sitting in your bag for days now. You threw them on the coffee table near Chris and waited for him to look at them.

You could see him become very pale, and if you weren’t that angry, you would be worried.

“Are they…” He started

“Yes. Divorce papers. We go to therapy, or you sign them. It’s your choice.”

Chris was startled. “You can’t be serious.”

“Oh, I’m more than serious. I have a pen if you want to sign now.”

You looked serene, but inside, your heart was dropping lower with every second Chris wasn’t doing anything. You knew you were forcing his hand, but he left you no other choice.

“So, what is it going to be, Chris?”

Chris took the divorce agreement into his hands, and you held your breath. Your heart started beating again when he tore them in half.

He gave you a deadly stare, but at this point, you didn’t care anymore. He could be angry, scream at you, even hate you, as long as it meant you were doing something to try to fix things, you could take it all.

“Text me when you find a therapist you can trust,” you said before taking your bag to leave.

If he thought you’d be the only one sweating for this, he couldn’t be more wrong. It takes two to tango. It was about damn time for Chris to act. Because you were sure that this time feeling sorry or even good sex wouldn’t fix things.

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euovennia · 3 years

Text

Decisions - C. C. Imagine

summary: in which carlisle faces the wrath of his former lover after abandoning her

pairing: fem!reader x carlisle

word count: 5,314 (can you tell i got carried away?)

request: could you maybe do one for carlisle where the reader and him have a massive argument like proper slamming doors shouting and he asks edward to help him (with the mind reading and that) with making up with the reader? i hope that makes sense hahah😂i’m in LOVE with your writing 🤩

---

“Thank you for dinner tonight, Eugene. It feels like it’s been a while since I’ve been out like this so I appreciate it.” The woman spoke softly, the edges of her eyes crinkling slightly due to the smile that adorned her face. “It only feels like it’s been a while because it has been a while, Y/N.” The man teased as he looked down at the woman beside him. Her cheeks tinted a light pink color and it was at this moment she was thankful for the darkness of the night that enveloped the car the two were sat in. “Right. Look, I really am sorry about all of that. I was just,” She let out a sigh as she looked down at her hands, “I don’t really know actually.” She finished quietly. The man’s lips pressed into a thin line as his grip on the steering wheel tightened ever so slightly. Letting out a small sigh he responded, “You were just heartbroken. It’s normal, especially after something like that.” He muttered, his tone noticeably more annoyed causing her to frown. “Yeah. I guess that’s what happens when you’re thrown to the side like trash.” She muttered, a small smile tugging at her lips despite the pessimistic thoughts that began to infiltrate her mind.

Pulling into her driveway and parking the car, the man rested a hand on her thigh as he looked over at her once more, “You’re not trash, Y/N. You didn’t deserve what he did to you. He made his choice to leave….Now you just have to make your choice to get back out there and take your life back.” She let out a small sigh as she rested one of her hands on top of the one that was on her thigh, “I know, but it’s still hard. I mean, some days I feel like I’m completely fine and that I can take on the world but other days…Other days I can’t help but feel like he dodged a bullet leaving the way he did. Who knows, maybe he saw something wrong with me that I can’t see and decided it was too much for him.” Hearing her dejected tone the man only frowned, “I won’t lie and say I know how you feel because I honestly don’t. What I do know is that you can’t let his choices dictate your life. He made his decision and it’s about time you made yours. I just want what’s best for you, everyone does.” The woman began to chew on her lip as she allowed the weight of the words from her friend to sink into her mind. “I guess that’s fair. Maybe I have been sulking around a bit longer than I should be.” “It’s been five months, Y/N. I think you’ve done more than enough sulking for the year.” She nodded silently before pulling her hand away from his and tugging her purse up to rest on her lap. “I’m pretty tired so I think I’m gonna head to bed now. Thank you again for dragging me out of the house tonight, Gene. I really did enjoy everything. Maybe we can do it again sometime soon,” She suggested, a small burst of confidence bubbling in her chest. Eugene’s face lit up with a smile as he nodded eagerly, “Definitely. Just let me know when you want to go. I’ll be waiting.” She smiled as she leaned over the console to give him a brief hug before pulling away and promptly exiting the car. She closed the door and gave the man a small wave before making her way into her small house. She dropped her belongings at the door and kicked her shoes off before dragging herself to her bedroom and throwing herself onto the bed as she immediately tugged a warm blanket over her body. She laid still for a moment as she stared blankly at the ceiling before rolling over and digging around in her bedside drawer before her hand came into contact with a familiar piece of paper. She hastily pulled it out and sat up as she began to unfold the paper and skim her eyes over the words that were elegantly written onto the paper. My love, I am writing this letter to you with a fearful mind and heavy heart as I am not quite sure how you will react. It is without a doubt that you are the one who has stolen my heart and who I will love and cherish unconditionally for the rest of my existence which only makes writing this even more painful. Even with this burden, I must carry on. It’s come to my, and the family’s attention, that our presence in Forks will only bring nothing but pain and suffering to both you and Bella. It is because of this that we must leave. Believe me when I say there is no other way. This is for your and Bella’s safety. My only regret is that I will not be able to hold you in my arms and gaze into your loving eyes one last time before we leave, but I know if I did I would only stay and I cannot do that to you or my family. I hope to meet with you again, my love. Yours forever, Carlisle “Yours forever.” She spoke, a bitter edge mixed in with her tone. She let out a scoff as she flicked the paper over the side of her bed, not bothering to check where it landed. She fell back onto her mattress as she once again began to stare aimlessly at the ceiling above. If only forever actually meant something.

Three Months Later

“Thank you for taking time out of your day and meeting with me, it truly means a lot,” Y/N spoke, a bright smile on her face as she shook hands with the mother who was holding tightly onto her child beside her. “Absolutely! You already know I’m more than happy to meet up with you at any time. Thank you for reaching out. I’ll make sure everything gets taken care of as soon as possible.” Y/N nodded as she looked down to the child who clung tightly to his mother’s side, “I’ll see you on Monday, kiddo. Have a great evening!” The child gave her a timid smile as he spoke up, “You too Ms. L/N!” The woman’s smile only widened before bidding the pair a goodbye. Hearing her classroom door close, she took a seat in her chair as she leaned forward to get a closer look at the classwork of her fourth-period class. Letting out a small sigh, she grabbed her blue pen and began her daily routine of monotonous grading. After what felt like an eternity, she heard her classroom door swing open causing her to look up from the stack of classwork that seemed to significantly lower in height since starting. “I figured you’d still be here. I got us some Chinese!” Eugene spoke as he held up the bag of takeout like a trophy in his hands. “Thank goodness. I really didn’t want to get home and have to cook. It’s been a long day.” The woman groaned as she pushed the stack of paperwork to the side as Eugene placed the styrofoam container into her hands. She quickly opened up the box and began to eat to her heart's content as she watched Eugene struggle with his chopsticks. “I’m not quite sure why you get those if you haven’t figured you how to use them after nearly two years. I think you should just give up.” She remarked before taking a bite of veggie roll dipped in duck sauce she’d expertly acquired with her own pair of chopsticks. Eugene let out a scoff as he turned to face her, “Well sorry I can’t be perfect at everything I do. Not my fault no one taught me how to use these things.” He muttered with a frown on his face. She let out a hearty laugh, “I’ve offered to teach you numerous times, you just refuse to let me help you out.” “I refuse because I’m a strong, independent man. I don’t need to rely on no woman.” She smirked, “If I didn’t know you were gay, I’d think you have some vendetta against women.” “Vendetta? Against women? Please, a woman could spit on me and I’d apologize for bothering her.” He scoffed. Her eyes glinted with mischief as she stared at him with a brow quirked up, “Good to know. Very good to know.” He rolled his eyes before throwing a packet of soy sauce at her, “Oh be quiet. You know you could never do that to me. You love me too much.” “Sadly. Now, hurry up and finish eating. I wanna get home already.” He shook his head as he closed the takeout container, “I’m actually not all that hungry tonight so we can go now.” The woman only nodded in response as the pair began to clean up and gather their belongings before heading out of the classroom and over to his car. --- Pulling into her driveway, he put the car into park as Eugene turned to look at the woman beside him. “I know we just ate dinner together, but you wanna grab something to eat tomorrow?” She pondered for a moment before nodding with a small smile, “Yeah we can. You know I love being with you.” “Everyone does, they just don’t want to admit it.” She rolled her eyes playfully before reaching over the console and giving him a tight hug and a kiss on the cheek. “Text me the details. I’ll see you later, Gene.” He quickly returned her affection as he nodded, “I will. Have a good evening, Y/N.” She gave him a smile before getting out of the car and closing the door behind her. She gave him a parting wave as she watched him pull out of her driveway and away from her house. With a content sigh, she walked up to her front door and twisted the knob, shock coming over her features as the door swung open with ease. I never leave the door unlocked. Feeling a sense of unease beginning to creep up on her, she tucked her keys between her knuckles as she slowly stepped into her house making sure to rake her eyes over every little detail in her home. With small and quiet movements, she set her bag on the ground as she silently shut the door behind her. She carefully crept into the house as she made sure to keep both her eyes and ears peeled for any suspicious sign of an intruder. Walking into her living room, she continued her slow and cautious movements before her eyes settled on her couch where a hauntingly familiar piece of fabric was strewn across the top. Gulping, she stalked closer to the couch and picked up the dark grey jacket. With shaking hands, she slowly began to unfold the jacket, her heart clenching as the familiar scent invaded her nostrils. Eyes widened and heart pounding, she whipped around to find him standing there in all his glory. “Carlisle.” She gasped out. She stared with a sense of horror and despair as she took in the sight of the man who stood only a few feet away from her. Her eyes raked over his tall, slightly muscularity and lean build that was dressed in a light blue collared button-up that was neatly tucked away beneath a sweater vest that was a shade darker than his button-up. It was paired with a pair of black jeans she had gotten him as a gift along with a pair of dress shoes that she had a feeling were new. She sucked in a sharp breath as she dared to bring her eyes up to his face that radiantly shone against the dim lighting in the living room, his golden eyes locked onto her figure that seemed frozen in place as the pair stared each other down. Neither one of them dared to break the silence as a tense feeling overcame the both of them, more specifically Y/N. Swallowing the last of her pride, she found the courage to speak first. “You’re here.” As if sensing her hesitance, Carlisle slowly nodded before gently speaking out, “Yes. There was a change in our living conditions.” Not quite knowing how to respond, the woman only nodded as she suddenly became all too aware of just how small the living room truly was. Taking in a small breath, Carlisle took a step toward her causing the woman to immediately take a step away from him. This reaction caused him to shrink back into himself as he felt a pang of hurt course through his body. I deserve that. Shaking off the rejection he opened his mouth, “Love-“ “Get out.” His eyes widened at her harsh tone as he took a moment to stare at her face. It didn’t take a genius to know that her expression was one of extreme anger and discomfort, but to know that the person who had once promised unconditional love and care for you aimed that deadly glare at you, it was disheartening, to say the least. “Y/N, I can explain-“ “Now you want to explain yourself? What, you think you can break into my house and expect everything to just be alright? Do you have any idea what you put me through just leaving like that? I spent months trying to convince myself that I still had a life worth living and you expect me to run back into your arms? I don’t think so, Carlisle.” She spits, a certain fire he had never seen burning into him as she glared at him. “I know I hurt you, but it was what the family needed. I’m sorry it came to it, but we had no other choice. I had no other choice.” She let out a scoff as she threw the jacket to the ground before walking up to him with fury in her eyes before stopping directly in front of him, “And you couldn’t tell me that in person? You had to leave a fucking note? Are you kidding me? You knew what I would think and you didn’t want to face that so you took the easy way out by tossing me to the side like trash-“ “You’re not trash-“ His sentence was once again cut short, not by her words this time, but by the sound of her hand smacking against his stone-cold cheek. Startled, Carlisle stumbled a bit as he looked to her with a look of shock and hurt visible on his face, “Did you just-“ “Yes. I slapped you Carlisle and if I’m being honest, I should do a hell of a lot more to you right now with the nerve you have showing your face around here after what you did.” He let out a sigh of annoyance as he took a step back from her, “I did it to protect you. You really think I would intentionally hurt you?” “If that was the case, you would’ve talked to me and not just left a lousy note!” She yelled. “I was protecting you, Y/N! I did what I thought was best at the time and I’m sorry if you can’t see that but I don’t regret what I did for even a second!” He yelled back as he felt himself feeding on her own anger and frustration. “If you don’t regret it then why the hell did you come crawling back here?! You should’ve just left another note on my bed and left me alone, God knows you’re great at doing that!” Carlisle let out a humorless laugh as he bit back, “What? So you can be alone with Eugene? God Y/N, if I knew how easily you could move on from me I would’ve just found some other woman to run off with!” “Don’t you dare try to blame this on me, Cullen. I wasn’t the one who decided to walk away from a perfectly good relationship-“ “Maybe it wasn’t a perfectly good relationship, Y/N! Maybe that’s why I left in the first place! Did you ever take a moment to think about how much of a pain you can be to deal with, especially as a human? How much it took to take care of you? You drive me absolutely insane and leaving you behind was probably one of the best decisions of my entire existence!” He roared out harshly. At his impassioned revelation, Y/N’s face quickly became void of all emotion as she straightened out her posture. He watched helplessly as she clenched and unclenched her jaw, a habit she did when she was trying not to lose control, especially during an argument. Feeling a pit grow in his stomach at the weight of his words, Carlisle’s face fell as he gulped. “Y/N, you know I didn’t mean-“ “I’m going to my room.” Carlisle looked up at her as his eyes slightly widened at her choice of words, “What?” “I said I’m going to my room and I won’t bother coming out until morning. If I come out and you’re still here, I won’t hesitate to call the cops and tell them about your breaking and entering stunt,” She spoke lifelessly. “Please don’t-“ “Goodnight Carlisle,” She spoke quietly before stalking off toward her bedroom. Carlisle watched her figure disappear behind the walls of her house, a sharp flinch interrupting his still frame as the walls shook from the force of her slamming her door. In all his time of knowing her, he knew she was a woman of her word and so with a heavy heart and a guilty conscience, he picked up his jacket before leaving her residence as he tried to get the sound of her heartbroken cries emitting from her room out of his head.

Next morning

Slowly stirring awake, Y/N reluctantly opened her eyes. Immediately being blinded by the light shining in from the window she regretted her decision as she screwed her eyes shut, rubbing away at her eyes with her hands as she tried to dull the stinging sensation. Once soothed, she opened her eyes once more. Furrowing her brows together, she sat up as she took a moment to sniff the air. Lips pressed into a thin line and annoyance already coursing through her veins, she shot up from her bed as she swung her door open and stormed over to the kitchen. “I told you I was going to call the cops if-Oh.“ Her sentence quickly faltered as she caught sight of Edward watching over the movements of Bella as she moved around the kitchen with a grace that Y/N could never quite master due to the fact that she was more than happy to live off of take-out than take the time out of her day to make a homemade meal for herself. “What are you doing here?” She got out, her voice suddenly feeling very small and hoarse. Edward turned to her, crinkling his nose slightly at the overwhelmingly large amount of thoughts that flooded through her head. Shoving away his own distaste for her mind at the moment, he spoke. “Carlisle said you’d call the cops if you saw him in here when you got up. You never said anything about seeing me or Bella,” At the mention of her name, Bella perked up as she turned to face the older woman with a shy smile and a small wave before turning back to the pancakes she was in the middle of making. Y/N let out a deep sigh as she rolled her eyes, “Damn him and his loopholes.” Edward gave a small smile toward the woman. While he had strong feelings about human involvement in the family’s rather odd lifestyle, it was obvious to anyone that he had grown a soft spot for the woman who had effortlessly stolen the heart of his adoptive father. While he looked to Carlisle as a father figure, it was Y/N who he saw as a mother figure. “Come on, Bella already fixed you a plate. Why don’t we sit down and talk for a bit?” By the time the words had left his mouth, he was already dragging her to the couch in the living room shoving the plate of food into her hands as he sat on the couch opposite to her. “Yes, make yourself at home.” She muttered sarcastically before stabbing her fork into a sausage and shoving it into her mouth. “Y/N-“ He started. “Why are you here, Edward?” She asked once she had finished chewing. "Alive had a vision of what happened. I just wanted to check in on you." She let out a bitter laugh as she looked up at him, "Well I'm doing just fine, Edward. Feel free to leave. Bella can stay though, these pancakes are heavenly," The woman remarked as she stabbed a fluffy pancake with her fork. "You're still in your clothes from last night and your eyes are red and puffy. Believe me when I say you look horrible." He observed. "Well your eye bags are becoming more prominent, but you don't see me rubbing that in your face now do you?" She remarked, patience slowly beginning to wear thin. "Well, I can't exactly sleep it off. I'm literally dead." "Excuses, excuses." She waved off. Edward let out a small sigh of frustration as she continued to brush off his efforts. It was no surprise she was upset with Carlisle especially after some of the things he had said, but the disregard she had for her own feelings was annoyingly frustrating, especially when he could see right through her act just by digging into her thought. While it could very well be seen as an invasion of privacy, Edward felt it was critical at this moment. "You can't just ignore this conversation, Y/N. You've gotta talk about it at one point or another. I know you're hurting." "You don't know anything, Edward. You can't just waltz in here and think you know how I feel." "I can make a pretty good assumption based on your thoughts." She rolled her eyes as she pushed the plate of food away from her, "What is it with you guys and taking the easy way out? First, you leave Forks because of an accident. Then Carlisle leaves me with a note for his goodbye and if that wasn't enough, you have the nerve to sit here and read my thoughts instead of talking to me like a normal person would. It's getting pathetic honestly." She finished off with a huff. Edward's lips turned into a frown as he leaned back into the couch, "Then tell me how you feel." Y/N let out a deep sigh as she stared down at her hands, "I'm just hurt. When you guys came into my life, I wasn't expecting to get so attached, and when I did...God, it felt like the best thing in the world like I was flying. Carlisle knew it, you knew it, everyone knew it. And then you just leave? It's one thing to leave me here by myself, but the fact no one even said anything to me? I would've preferred being left alone in the woods like a sack of meat because at least then I'd know you cared enough to see me one last time, but I didn't get that and it hurt." Edward silently watched her for a moment before speaking, "Your thoughts are all jumbled together...What are you thinking about?" She let out a sigh as she began to play with her fingers, "When you guys left, I felt useless. I felt like dead weight and it showed. I could barely bring myself out of bed to go to work and the days I manage to bring myself to work, everyone just wanted me to go home because they were so worried. It was like the only thing I wanted to do was sleep and eat my days away, but I couldn't even do that because just the thought of eating made me want to puke. As for sleeping, I couldn't do that without waking up and driving over to your house like it was some bad dream. Hell, it took five months for me to even get out of the house and get some semblance of normality back into my life, then it took another three months for me to finally feel normal again. And just like that, you guys come back without a care in the goddamn world expecting a warm welcome after everything. Especially with the things he said? It was one thing to have him come back out of literally nowhere, but for him to say all of those things too? It hurts and I don't wanna go through that again, Edward. I can't go through that again." Edward nodded with a frown settled on his face as he reached out and grabbed her hand, "You can't avoid him forever though, especially if you're both in the same town." "Should've thought about that before he left." "You're right, I should have." The pair both look toward the main entrance where Carlisle stood in the same outfit he'd worn the night before albeit a tad wrinkled and disbelieved with his normally tame hair sticking out in different directions. Her face grew into a scowl as she crossed her arms, "What part of "I'll call the cops" don't you understand? I don't want you here." Carlisle turned to stare at Edward and gave him a small nod. Obviously picking up on something Y/N couldn't quite understand, he stood up and walked out with Bella awkwardly trailing behind him making Y/N wonder just how long she was standing there watching her pour her heart out to boyfriend. Shaking away the thoughts, she looked to Carlisle. "As much as I hate you right now, I'd rather not see you get dragged away in a pair of cuffs so please just go." Carlisle only shook his head as she slowly began walking toward her, "You know I can't do that, love." "No. You don't get to say that. You don't get to come in here and act like you still care." At this, Carlisle stopped his advances as he stared her down. "I'll always care about you. I know I have a weird way of showing it, but I was only doing what I thought was best. For my family, for you." "I know that Carlisle, I could care less about the fact that you left. It's how you left and how you came back. It was just so sudden, there was no warning and you just sprung it on me. Then yesterday with how upset you got with me when I didn't immediately fall into your arms that you thought you could say such horrible things...How did you expect me to react?" As she listed off all these wrongdoings, Carlisle felt an overwhelming sense of shame and embarrassment creep onto him as he looked down at the wooden floors beneath him. "Y/N, I know there's nothing I could ever do to make it better, but I truly am sorry for all the pain I've caused you with my absence. You're absolutely right when you say the way I left was awful. I did take the easy way out, but I knew if I did it in person I wouldn't be able to stop myself from leaving you. I knew the family was counting on me and I couldn't risk my own emotions overpowering what they needed me to do." "And yesterday? What the hell was that?" Carlisle sighed as his frown deepened, "Like you said, I came back expecting you to fully accept me once again. I thought you'd be blinded with joy that you wouldn't care about me just showing up and when you didn't I just...It was painful. Having you yell at me talking about how you didn't want me around was hurtful. I didn't know how to react so I gave into my anger and I said terrible things that I didn't mean. There is no excuse for my actions or the words I said last night, but please believe me when I say that I didn't mean a word of what I said. I was angry, frustrated, and admittedly a bit thirsty. I acted like a monster and I don't expect your forgiveness, but I hope you understand just how sorry and regretful I am." At his long admission, Y/N let out a sigh as she ran a hand through her hair. "God I hate you." Carlisle looked at her, pain swirling around in his eyes as he tried to ignore the pang of hurt that made its way through his chest. "You should. I don't-" "I hate that you left. I hate that you couldn't be a fucking man and tell me yourself. I hate that you came back out of nowhere and said all those horrid things to me. I hate that you had the nerve to take advantage of your child for your own benefit. I hate how you're still here even after I threatened to call the cops on you and I hate that I still need your touch," She managed to spill out in a long, desperate breath as the salty tears began to prick at her eyes once more. Carlisle sucked in a breath before using his enhanced speed to get to the woman who's strong resolve was slowly cracking for the man who had caused her so much heartbreak. He slowly and softly brought his hands to rest on either side of her head as he gently craned her neck to look up at him as she gripped onto his arms with tears now freely streaming down her face. He pressed a soft kiss to her forehead as she continued to speak, "I hate how relieved I feel now that you're here," He then pressed his soft lips to the tip of her nose "I hate how I feel like I can finally breathe," Another kiss was pressed to her cheek "And I hate how much I just want you to kiss me already." At her words, Carlisle's gaze darkened slightly before he pulled her body close to his and pressed his lips to hers. Her arms threw themselves around his neck as she jumped up onto him, his strong arms immediately catching and supporting her weight as they desperately moved their lips together as if it were the last time. She tightened her hold on him as she ran her hands through his golden locks, the familiar feeling of love and adoration filling her heart as she did so, lips still moving feverishly in sync. After a few more moments, they pulled away with Y/N breathing deeply from the lack of oxygen while Carlisle stared at her with his loving eyes. Once her breathing returned back to normal, she stared into his eyes as she spoke, "But most of all, I hate how much I still love you." Carlisle let out a sigh of relief and happiness as she pulled her even closer to him, the tiniest of spaces between them being closed as they embraced each other. "I love you so much, Y/N. So so much," He spoke as he buried his face into her hair as he inhaled the scent of her sweet shampoo. "I love you too but if you ever leave me like that again I promise I won't hesitate to hit you harder than I did last night." "I wouldn't dream of it, my love. I'm yours till the end of time."

#carlisle cullen #twilight #twilight imagines #twilight fanfic #edward cullen #bella cullen #bella swan #new moon #eclipse #breaking dawn #twilight imagine #carlisle cullen imagines #carlisle cullen imagine #requested #imagines #imagine #fanfic #carlisle x reader

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2-cute-4-school · 3 years

Text

𝘯𝘤𝘵 𝘥𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘮 𝘭𝘦𝘯𝘥𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘪𝘳 𝘩𝘰𝘰𝘥𝘪𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘪𝘳 𝘴/𝘰 𝘥𝘰𝘦𝘴𝘯’𝘵 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦

requested by the national cutie pie @heartyyjeno

Mark Lee

he can be a bit oblivious sometimes bless his soul꒰๑˃͈꒵˂͈๑꒱୭

so he’s kinda clueless as why tf you’re so pouty

has he said anything stupid earlier? forgotten any important date?? or... even worse

ARE YOU ON YOUR PERIOD?? (ｼ;ﾟДﾟ)ｼ ᵉᵛᵉʳʸᵒⁿᵉ ʰᵃˢ ᵗʰᵉᶦʳ ᵗʰᵉᶦʳ ᵒʷⁿ ᵖᵉʳᶦᵒᵈ ʸᵒᵘ ᶜᵃⁿ’ᵗ ᶜʰᵃⁿᵍᵉ ᵐʸ ᵐᶦⁿᵈ ˢᵒʳʳʸ

he’s too nervous to even prod at you rn

especially after a trainee who just happens to be wearing his hoodie passes by and you-

did you just growl?!?? ( ⚆ _ ⚆ )

but you’re his baby and you’re just SO deflated and he HATES seeing you anything but happy and lively so he just can’t stand by and watch you so upset cuz his lil heart hurts too (๑◕︵◕๑)

“babe, are you uh alright?”

“yeah, just a little bit cold” *trying to subtly hint him*

“oh! that’s not good, you should have dressed warmer, should i go ask manager-hyung to turn up the heating in the practice room??”

‘maybe i should just set your ass on fire to warm up’ (►˛◄’!)

“or do you maybe want my hoodie?? it should be enough so you won’t be cold anymore, where did i... ohhhhh”

*light bulb turning on above his head* (〇o〇；)

“it’s fine mark, it’s not like you love me anyway it’s fine i should have seen this coming” *loud fake sobbing in your hands* *mark panic*

“no no baby come on-”

“let’s just get the divorce papers, mark lee!!!!”

“but we’re not married-” *sobbing intensifies* “i’m sorry, I’M SORRY!!! i didn’t mean to!! here, just a second!!” (´⊙ω⊙`)！

this specimen just took off his shirt and draped it over you in the middle of the practice room

“mark, wtf are you doing?!?? i was only kidding!!”

“how was i supposed to know, what if you were seriously upset-”

“hyung, can you help-” *chenle slams door closed* *dolphin screams* “you’re paying for my eyeball removal surgery, you nasties!!”

“chenle NO”

Huang Renjun

my man here catches on pretty quickly what your pout is about

you didn’t make it exactly hard to notice either (；¬д¬)

“y/n, want some ice cream?”

“no, i’m cold, you can shove it up yo ass and share with dear [redacted]”

jesus i wonder why your s/o is mad renjun

he’s not sure how to approach the situation at first, worried that he might get a tube of ice shoved somewhere he wouldn’t want it to ゞ◎Д◎ヾ

he decides to just be himself read as blunt

“baby come oooon, i can ask them to give it back”

“no, then i’ll seem like a possessive bitch” (Θ︹Θ)ს

“don’t call yourself that!! but then should i just run back to the dorms and get another hoodie?”

“no, i missed you this week, i don’t want you to leave”

“then you can just come with me?” (≖^≖๑ )ﾌ

“but i’m too lazy to get up” same reader same

renjun : ఠ ͟ಠ then wth DO YOU WANT ?!!!?!!

your soul renjun

he’s a bit lost and you’re kinda under the weather too and he HATES it because you’re his kitten and he CAN’T and WON’T allow you to feel anyhting but like absolute royalty with him ೕ(⁍̴̀◊⁍̴́ฅ)

so he just drapes himself over your back, wrapping his arms tightly around you, caging you in a warm embrace and nuzzling his cheek into yours

“who needs a hoodie when they’ve got a junnie??!?!” (˃̵ᴗ˂̵ ๑)

how could anyone stay mad when a cutie like renjun just curls himself around you and pulls you flush against himself, wrapping his limbs around you and peppering kisses everywhere in reach

you’re basically purring in content at this how could you not 」(￣▽￣」)

depending on how tired the both of you are, you might qualify for a good ol’ nap cuddled up against renjun

but don’t let this fool you

you AIN’T gona catch him making the same mistake again

he’s asking you first about absolutely anything

“no renjun, i don’t need the last of your toilet paper, why do you even- you know what, don’t answer that, just go take a shit in peace” Σ(-᷅_-᷄๑)

Lee Jeno

we all know jeno is too much of a sweetheart to say ‘no’ (๑′ᴗ‵๑)

he might be freezing himself and he’d still give his hoodie away to the first person who asks learn how to say NO kids

so now you’re both freezing and on top of everything you’re upset too

that’s a DOUBLE KILL for sweet babie jeno (๑◕︵◕๑)

“babe i’m sorry how was i supposed to know you don’t like them??”

“it’s not even that, jeno, you’re literally shivering!! why would you give it if you’re cold too?”

and that’s when jeno’s bf sathelit sprung into action

“wait... ‘too’?? are you cold, my baby??!??!?” (ʘᗩʘ’)

“no, wait, i mean yes, but that’s not-”

“i’ll be back in a second” he isn’t even kidding

he comes back with a blanket AND heating pads (that he doesn’t miss a second to clutch to your cheeks and then coo at your fish face)

“where did you get these from?” *suspicious*

he tells you he borrowed stole them from hyuck by politely asking for them threatening with a flex of his arm while eye smiling the entire time hyuck stood no chance ( ⚆ ᴗ ⚆ ) *nervous chuckle*

but jeno allows you no debating time before he wraps you in the blanket like a lil cutie patootie WARM burrito and leaves a *smooch* to your forehead ( ˘ ³˘)♥

you can spend an eternity arguing with him that you should take turns since he’s cold too, he isn’t taking ANY OF IT

his bubs isn’t allowed to be cold and he wants you to forget about who he lent his hoodie to too

the only way you can get him to relent is refusing to stay cocooned in it

“y/n, wear it or you’ll catch a cold!!” ( •̀ω•́ )σ

“sorry to burst your bubble, but you can and will catch a cold too!!”

that’s how you found yourself sandwiched between jeno’s arms, suffocating from both his bodt warmth and the blanket enveloping THE BOTH of you

best sauna would 110% recommend ୧( ⁼̴̶̤̀ω⁼̴̶̤́ )૭

Lee Donghyuck

my man here knows EXACTLY what he’s doing once *that person* asks him for his hoodie with a flirty smile

he lends it over with that shit eating grin but not without watching from the corner of his eye as you deflated like a loney baloney ( ◞᷄દ◟᷅ )

pretends to not notice your pout and lack of answers to his remarks

“y/n, wanna order chinese tonight?”

sweet, but not on my watch asshole *silence* (˵¯͒⌢͗¯͒˵)

“i’ll take that as a yes, i’ve been craving some seaweed soup”

*eye twitch*

‘fine u lil booger two can play at this game’ (•̀o•́)ง

you leave the room and return... wrapped up in MARK’S sweater and plop down back next to hyuck proudly (ฅ⁍̴̀◊⁍̴́)

he tenses up and turns to you

“y/n” ooooh damn you’re in deep shit

*you bat your eyelashes innocently* “yes my dear?”

“you stink, can you move further away?”

you... did not... JUST HEAR THAT??!?!!? (ﾉꐦ ⊙曲ఠ)ﾉ彡┻━┻

but you get up and walk with your tail between your legs to the other side of the room and curl up in a ball of failure

you both do your own things insilence until-

*sniffle* *hiccup* *SNIFFLE*

“y/n?” *silence*”baby??” *hiccup*

oh no oh no NO NO, hyuck’s baby ain’t crying on his watch (╯’□’)╯

he DASHES to your side and envelops you in his arms while cooing apologies and sweet nothings in your ear

“come on baby, you know i didn’t mean it, i just want your attention and your attention only and i only meant that mark’s hoodie stinks, never you, you’re my baby, you can’t-” ヾ( •́д•̀ ;)ﾉ

and then your shoulders start shaking and hyuck starts to actually worry until your sobs turn into... giggles?? hold up, WHAT??

he turns you around just to see you in a fit of giggles, the only tears present are the ones building up in your eyes from laughter

“oh you think you’re smart, don’t you??” (⁎⁍̴̀﹃ ⁍̴́⁎)♡

ATTACC OF TICKLES FOR YOU

Na Jaemin

another sweetheart tbh who wouldnt be able to refuse out of courtesy

but he just KNOWS he fcked up the moment you turn away when he leans in to kiss you (︶︹︺) ╯ ( ് દ ് )

but he ain’t giving up so easily

no matter how upset you are, depriving him of his dose of kisses? federal crime!!!! CRUELTY!!!!!!! ╰[ ಠ Ĺ̯ಠ]╯

so he keeps on pushing his affections on you

a clutching back hug, a rushed kiss wherever he is able to land it considering your struggle to avoid him, a nuzzle against your cheek, a pinch to your cheeks, a failed attempt to lockyour hands together

my man here tries not to show disappointment whenever you succesfully escape his ♡ 𝓵𝓸𝓿𝓮 ♡

jaemin, grumbling: “you and jisungie, a couple of hooligans, i’ll leave you on the welcome mat tonight for this” (҂⌣̀_⌣́) he won’t he loves you too much, he can’t fall asleep if he’s not 110% sure you’re well fed and happy

but he still babies you to no end

“come on my baby, what should i do so you forgive me hm?”( *¯ ³¯*)♡

you, an entire baby: *huff* “so now you care huh? go ask or no, go TAKE CARE of [redacted]”

jaemin’s last braincell performing swan lake on thin ice male version 2020 be like ₍₍ ◝( ･’ω’･ )◟ ⁾⁾

so he sighs and leaves the room

so NOW you’re worrying that mayyyybe you pushed him a bit too far

but before you even get the chance to walk down the hallway in your mighty search for your boyfriend, everything suddenly goes black

no you didn’t pass out or did you

jaemin just creeped up on you and ENGULFED you in a blanket hug for which he DEFINITELY didn’t run a marathon to buy༼つ ் ▽ ் ༽つ

when you finally manage to worm your head out of the fluffy cocoon he engulfed you in, your words were still muffled

“nana?? how did you even-???”

he just hugs you tighter and cuts off your questions

“shhh, all that matters is that you are ABSOLUTELY ADORABLE and i am maybe perhaps forgiven??” ◕ ‿ ◕

how could you ever refuse this precious soul

Zhong Chenle

so i can see one(1) scenario in which he would lend his hoodie to someone he SPECIFICALLY knows you don’t fancy

if you had a let’s say disagreement before and we all know he can be PETTY big time sooo basically he’d do it just to spite you ᕕ( ᐛ )ᕗ

and the lil shiz looks SO PROUD of himself

but you’re not letting the brat win we ain’t no losers _へ__(‾◡◝ )>

so you just creep up behind him and stick your glacier hands up his shirt and rest them on his warm back

when i’m telling you he broke the record for the highest jump and most likely shattered any windows in the vicinity ༻(〃ຶ⌂〃ຶ)

“y/n!!!! keep your ice cubes to yourself!!”

“but i’m cold”

“your cold, your problem”

“watch me say the same thing when jaemin’s chasing you around with a wooden ruler” （；¬＿¬)

things settle down after that

or so he thought!!!!! (งಠل͜ಠ)ง never let your guard down lele sigh

another sneak attack to make sure chenle gets a SOUR taste of absolutely pure pettiness so he gets sick of it himself lol

this time a bitch ain’t joking

you shove your entire head under his shirt and then slither yourself so the top of your head pops out of chenle’s shirt collar let’s hope chenle made the wise choice of wearing a loose shirt so you both won’t suffocate

so you just blink up at him like (◕ᴥ◕)

and chenle is shrieking the entire time sigh

and while you’re too cute for him, its not exactly comfortable for either of you so he pats your head and begs asks you to get out of his shirt(?)

“am i getting your hoodie then?”

“i can’t just barge in and ask for it back”

“alright them i’m suffocating you FUN” (╯✧∇✧)╯

“i’m buying you an entire store of hoodies, JUST GET.OUT!!!”(;≧皿≦）

you have to restrain him for actually going on a shopping spree cuz he LOVES spoiling you but he pays in cuddles while you’re snuggling in your favourite hoodie of his

Park Jisung

confused babie /(@ﾟﾍﾟ@) a mood

he probably lent his hoodie cause he was too shy to refuse and didn’t even know you don’t like the person he gave it to

and then he’s clueless when you’re pouty ｢(ﾟ<ﾟ)ﾞ??

jisung: “do you want some water??”

you: *grumbling visibly upset* ( ｰ̀εｰ́ )

jisung, at a safe distance away from you, scratching his head, rethinking life choices: “...okay, maybe not. how about choco milk?”

he keeps an eye on you but other than that he’s LOST lol

that’s when the ✨𝓱𝔂𝓾𝓷𝓰𝓼✨ kick in

emergency contact momma jaemin is the first person jisung calls once he escaped to the ‘bathroom’

“jisung, you know i love you, BUT ARE YOU DUMB?? HOW COULD YOU- blahblahblah” my man is listening to an entire rant about how to treat your partner well 101 (۶* ‘ꆚ’)۶”

now that he knows the theory, he needs the practice

but you might already worry that he fell in the toilet with how long he’s been gone for god forbid you fall into that dark void

so he calls chenle

“chenle, i’m treating you to hotpot if you bring me a blanket or hoodie in less than 5 minutes”

“add in some steak and it’s a deal” ( ✧≖ ͜ʖ≖)

“i’m so selling your soul for a piece of gum, FINE!! just be quick!!”

THIS BOI RIGHT HERE!! A TREASURE!!!! he would step on his honour just to make sure his bubs is hapyy ˭̡̞(◞⁎˃ᆺ˂)◞*✰

so after he excuses himself again to retrieve the blanket from chenle

he BURRITO WRAPS you in it and then sits down next to your confused but undeniably happy form and pats your head nervously while he rambles you’re still his most sought after for of comfort no matter what

“i’m sorry for being a bad boyfriend, i should have realized you’d be cold too and that i should always put you first and i-”

you cut him off with a chaste kiss to his cheek which definetely doesn’t leave him speechless and tomato red in the cheeks (๑♡⌓♡๑)

“it’s okay, i was just being dramatic, you should always put yourself first tho, okay baby??”

baby is malfunctioning but he still nods mindlessly and kisses your cheek back ( ᵅั ᴈ ᵅั;)

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