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matwith1t · 3 years

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A/N: Hiiii!! More writing! Yay! This was a fun one!! It’s 98% fluff with 2% angst, but I promise it has a happy ending 🙂 Thank you all so much for your encouraging words!! I cherish them all & hold them close to my heart 🥺 Any and all feedback is appreciated! I hope you enjoy !

Summary: From your first date, first kiss, first hockey game of Mat’s, first I love you, to your first fight…You always learned something new about him.

MASTERLIST | LET’S CHAT 🥂 | Mat Barzal x Reader

Warnings: One swear word & brief allusion to smut // WC: 11.6K // Fluff & Slight Angst

It was your first date.

A blind date.

The nerves got the best of you, so you arrived at the coffee shop early. What if the subway line you had to take was late? What if you missed a stop? What if you took a wrong turn down a street? Twenty minutes might be a bit too early, but it was the only way to ease your anxiety.

You don’t even know the last time you were on a blind date. Your friend, Hayden, had set it up. After a drunken confession over a shared bottle of wine, you admitted you were scared that you were running out of time to find your person. And that’s when an idea clicked in her mind.

She said she had a friend––Mat––who was tired of flings and wanted to really date someone. You waved her off, the idea of being set up seemed too middle school for you. But after she showed you a picture of him…you gave her the go ahead to send him your number.

She contacted Mat, and he said that he was all in for a blind date with you.

You tapped your foot on the pavement as you stood outside of the coffee shop entrance you agreed to meet at. After scrolling through your social media a few times, you clicked on your messages. Were you at the right coffee shop? You clicked on his name, and triple checked that you had the correct place and time.

“Uh, Y/N?”

At the sound of your name, you peered up from your phone and saw a nervous looking boy––a boy you recognized from the picture your friend showed you on a drunken Friday night. With a nervous breath, you offered him a tight lipped smile, “Mat?”

He visibly relaxed at your confirmation that he didn’t walk up a stranger. He ran a hand through his messy styled hair and easily smiled, “Yeah, I––Hi.”

“Hi,” you let out a small laugh.

Oh my God, this is so awkward, you thought to yourself. This was why blind dates were only met for middle school. A blind date was not meant for anytime after that.

While you hadn’t even spent five minutes in his presence, your mind already jumped to the worst conclusion of this not working out as either of you planned. While dating might not work out, maybe you could get a friend out of this.

Mat took a step around you and opened the door, “Should we head in?”

With a nod, you thanked him for holding the door open. Walking in, you were instantly engulfed with the smell of freshly ground coffee beans and the sound of hardworking espresso machines. The shop was bustling with city goers, but there were enough empty tables that you didn’t feel the need to rush to save one. You let out another deep breath as you felt Mat’s shoulder slightly brush yours as he stood next to you in line.

“What are you getting?” He looked down at you.

You tilted your head as you read the menu board that hung behind the counter, “Maybe one of their house lattes?” You then moved your gaze to look up at him, “What about you?”

He shrugged his shoulders, eyes not nearly looking at the menu for as long as you did to decide on a drink, before his eyes landed back on you with a smile, “An iced coffee.”

His smile was infectious. His smile was pretty. And you felt your stomach twist in knots the more you paid attention to the way his smile affected you.

“Also, you can––uh––get whatever you want,” his checks turned a bright shade of red as he stumbled over his words, “I’ll buy.”

You shook your head, but before you could say anything, the two of you were at the front of the line.

Mat was first with his order––an iced coffee––and then he turned his body to look at you, “And whatever she’s having.” You smiled in appreciation and gave the barista your order. You were about to move out of the way, and wait for Mat to be done paying, but he asked you another question, “Do you want anything to eat?”

You felt bad having him pay for coffee and something to eat. It was a coffee shop in New York after all, but the sound of your stomach making a high-pitched grumble sold you out. You felt yourself grow hot with embarrassment, and asked for a croissant. Mat tacked on two croissants to the order and swiped his credit card as if the steep price for two coffees and two pastries in a New York coffee shop wasn’t a concern.

From the two details Hayden had told you––which were his name and age––you knew he was young like you. If you wanted to splurge on a day like this, you needed to budget ahead of time correctly. While you were appreciative of Mat paying for you…it was a blind date. And you didn’t expect him to put so much effort into it

Maybe he budgeted his money better than you.

With your croissants on a plate, the two of you found a place to sit by a window. You tapped your fingers on the wooden table top. It was still awkward, you thought to yourself, as you counted down the seconds until your drinks came. Mat seemed to feel the awkwardness in the air too, but he braved his way through the weird atmosphere.

“So…” he nodded his head for ten seconds straight, eyes darting around the coffee shop, as he cut through the silence, “Where are you from?”

You answered his question, rambling a bit to fill the void, and then asked him the same question. It went back and forth like that for maybe thirteen minutes until your drinks were brought out to your table. Thankful that you had something to sip on if there was a lull in conversation, you circled your hands around the hot mug.

But the conversation never hit a lull; it was fun not knowing anything about Mat before you met him. And he seemed to enjoy it as much as you. You struggled to drink your coffee in a reasonable amount of time to save it from growing cold because of how much the two of you consecutively talked.

“So what do you do?” You took a sip of your lukewarm coffee.

He raised an eyebrow, “What do I do?”

You hummed a simple mhm at him as you swallowed down your drink, “Like, for work,” you set your mug down on the table and leaned forward, “What’s your job?”

“My job…” Mat muttered under his breath as he leaned back on the chair, crossing his arms over his chest. Your eyes flickered down to see the slight flex of his muscles, and when you reconnected eyes with him, he smirked, “I play hockey.”

You scrunched your eyebrows together, “Hockey?”

Mat nodded his head, the smirk on his face growing, as he kept silent. The two of you had been doing so well in avoiding silences, but you caught yourself in one. So, you took a sip of your drink, in hopes he would say something more about his job. But he continued to confidently sit back in his seat.

Not enjoying the sudden awkwardness, you added a futile point to your conversation, “I––I have some friends who play hockey. Only on the weekends though. Kind of like a rec league? Or just a pick up game––”

If you thought his smile was infectious, all you had to do was hear his laugh.

It was soft, a little more high-pitched than you imagined, as he slightly shook his head back and forth. The corners of his eyes crinkled slightly as his eyes shut for a few seconds. As his soft laughter settled down, he scratched the bridge of his nose, eyes glimmering under the natural light that shined through the window next to him.

It was a glimpse into how he sounded when he felt happy. And you wanted nothing more than to hear a real––eyes screwed shut tight, nose wrinkling, head tilted back––laugh from him.

Mat mirrored you; he leaned slightly forward, forearms resting against the table as his smile slowly transformed back into a smirk, “I play professional hockey.”

Professional hockey…But he looked so young. The only rational explanation you could think of in your head was that he played hockey for a minor league team in New York.

With a nod of your head, you took another sip of your drink. The hour you had spent with Mat flowed easily, but for some reason, finding out that he was some sort of professional athlete produced a feeling of insecurity inside of you.

You took another long sip of your coffee.

“You’ll have to come to a game,” Mat’s confident voice dropped to a hesitant whisper, “If you want to.”

Setting the empty mug down on the table, you bit the inside of your cheek to conceal your growing smile. You let out a silent deep breath, collecting your thoughts, because if he wanted you to come watch him play, that meant he had to see some sort of future with you.

Whether the future be two and a half weeks, five months, or four years…He saw you in his life somehow.

“I’d like to see you play,” you assured him.

His eyebrows animatedly rose up, almost getting lost under the loose strands of hair that fell a little too perfectly against his forehead, and smiled wide, “Awesome, that’s––Okay, yeah, I’ll text you about it.”

Neither of you could hide the smiles on your face.

After sitting at the table with empty coffee mugs for quite some time, the only reason why the date ended was because Mat said he had to go dog sit for one of his teammates. Regretfully, both of you brought your empty coffee mugs to the counter, and walked out the door with smiles, laughter, and a promise from Mat to text you about attending one of his games.

As you made the journey back to your place, you didn’t know the last time you felt this giddy after a first date. While you learned surface level information about him; you also learned the sound of his laugh, and that he wasn’t too fond of dogs.

And you couldn’t wait to learn more about him.

–––

It was your first kiss with Mat.

A nervous first kiss.

It came close to a month after your first date, and admittedly, it was probably the longest you had waited for a first kiss, but Mat had a streak of away games that kept him from New York and the two of you had only hung out in public. While a first kiss walking through a park had been romanticized one too many times, it would have left you in a daydream––but whenever it felt right––someone always came up to Mat to talk about hockey. While he wasn’t approached in public often, it seemed like whenever he was, it ruined the moment.

Maybe it was a sign he would be better off as just a friend.

But that thought always disappeared whenever he gently slid his hand into yours, intertwining your fingers and giving your hand a squeeze. And just like the first time you held his hand, there was an explosion of ecstasy in your chest. A good tightness in your chest you felt whenever he held your hand.

You were at a bar with Mat and some friends, your fingers interlocked and resting on his thigh, pressed close up to his side. A smile lit up your face whenever you felt his chest lightly shake with laughter or his thumb softly graze the top of your hand. The only part of the night where your smile tugged downward was when everyone decided to call it an early night.

As if Mat felt the same disappointment, he whispered in your ear, “I’ll take you back to your place.”

You wished he would ask if you wanted to get ice-cream at the parlor a few blocks over, or ask if you wanted to stay at the bar, but you knew he had an early morning tomorrow. All you wanted was to spend more time with him, and if him making sure you got home alright was how you spent more time with him, you would take it.

After tabs were paid off and goodbyes were said, everyone was off in their separate directions. Except for you and Mat.

Surprisingly, the streets weren’t that crowded for it being the early evening in New York, but Mat tugged you close to his side; fingers still intertwined. The walk to the subway was full of quiet conversation of observations the two of you made down the street with a few small laughs. And when you were on the platform for your train, your laughs turned to whispers.

“If Beau was a little too much, let me know,” Mat leaned down to whisper softly in your ear, “and I’ll beat him up.”

A soft chuckle left your lips as you leaned your head against his bicep, shaking your head, you looked up at him, “You said that last time. He’s nice, I like him.”

Mat hummed, “Sometimes his teasing goes a little too far.”

His voice was light-hearted, just like how Tito sounded when he teased Mat whenever he whispered in your ear throughout the evening, but there was an underlying uncertainty in his voice. Almost like he was concerned that if Tito teased you too much you wouldn’t want to spend anymore time with Mat. But that was quite the opposite. Whenever a best friend poked fun at the other, it was almost always meant in good nature, and it also showed that Mat confided his feelings about you with Tito.

You mirrored his soft hum, and squeezed his hand, as you shrugged your shoulders, “I wouldn’t mind more of his teasing,” you smiled up at him, hoping that he caught the hidden meaning behind your sentence; you seeing a future together with more interactions with his best friend. “My friends are the same way.”

Mat raised his eyebrows, and you ducked your chin into your chest out of nervousness at his next words, “So is that our next date? I meet your friends?”

Next date.

The thought of going on countless more dates with Mat caused an electric jolt to shoot down your spine. And when you flicked your eyes up to stare into his, you felt as if you were caught in one of your dreams. His eyes were already gazing on you in awe, with the corners of his lips lightly tuned upward into a soft closed lipped smile.

He moved his head closer to yours, it was just a centimeter of movement, but you noticed it. And you held your breath as you looked down at his lips, hoping that you would finally have your first kiss with Mat.

But like all of the people who interrupted the two of you whenever you were on a walk in the park, the harsh breaking sounds of the subway coming to a halt caused Mat to move away and stand up straight.

Mat cleared his throat and you let out a sigh at the ruined moment.

The train stopped, you waited until people were off the train car, and Mat swiftly tugged on your hand to make sure that the train didn’t escape before you had the chance to get on. The train car was empty, also a very rare sight on a still relatively early evening in New York. You made your way to sit on one of the empty seats, but your stretched out arm snapped back into Mat’s chest as he held tight onto your hand.

“Do you not want to sit?” You looked up at him as he gripped onto the pole in the center of the subway car.

Mat shook his head as he dropped your hand. But you didn’t have time to be sad at the loss of contact for long because Mat curled his arm around your waist, “Too dirty,” he mumbled under his breath as he pulled you close to his chest, “And we’ve been sitting all night, kinda wanna stand.”

You rolled your eyes at him and pressed your palms flat against his chest as the train jolted to a start.

Standing in silence with Mat on the empty subway was more relaxing than it should have been. Because while the unpleasant sound of the subway on the tracks echoed through the tunnel, with your head resting on Mat’s chest, all you heard was the steady rhythm of his heartbeat.

You could feel yourself dozing off as his thumb rubbed soothing circles on your hip, but your senses heightened when he trailed his hand slowly up your back. The feeling of his fingertips making contact with your spine caused goosebumps along your skin. And you swore your breathing stopped when you felt his hand trail up your neck, his fingers cradling the back of your head with his thumb on your cheek.

Hesitantly––hoping that you knew what was to come in the next few moments––you looked up at Mat through your eyelashes.

His bottom lip was pulled between his teeth as he stared down at you with a crease in between his eyebrows. With your hands still firmly placed on his chest, you could feel the deep breath he let out through his nose.

“I like you,” Mat blurted out.

You let out a breathy chuckle at his admission. You knew that he liked you by the way he always held your hand and how he liked to call you more than text, but to hear him verbalize his feelings felt nice.

You bit the inside of your cheek to contain your smile as you saw his head move a centimeter closer to yours, “I like you, too.”

Mat glanced at your lips, and then at your eyes, and even with a slight nod of your head, Mat still hesitated as if he was waiting for you to pull away. But you weren’t going to pull away––you didn’t want to pull away––because you had been waiting for this moment where your heart hammered in your chest, and your breath got caught in your throat.

And as you felt him let out another shaky breath, you closed your eyes and leaned up on your toes to press a kiss to his lips. His lips touched yours gently at first, a tender brush, as if he anticipated being electrocuted by a spark. But when nothing happened, Mat tucked his lower lip between yours in another gentle, but lingering kiss.

You had plenty of first kisses before in your life; there had been first kisses that had been harder, more rushed, more chaste…but never had you felt a first kiss that was so simple and right than you did with Mat. Your lips were merely pressed together, but you could still feel him everywhere.

There was something so innocent about the kiss, as if both of you were afraid to mess up.

The two of you separated just as softly as you’d come together, just enough room to where you could peer up at him and still feel his breath across your face. Then the two of you laughed. Shy, whispery giggles that had more to do with nerves rather than humor. And as the two of you continued to stare into each other’s eyes, it was as if instinct kicked in and Mat’s lips were back on yours.

This time, your lips met with more certainty, eager to feel. A soft sigh escaped your lips when Mat parted his lips further and you felt the tip of his tongue. The hand that had previously cupped your cheek, was now on around your lower back as he pressed you close to him. And to keep yourself steady as the subway car went around a bend, one of your hands gripped his shirt as the other clutched onto his bicep.

As the two of you shared your first kiss on an empty New York subway, you learned a few more things about Mat. You finally learned what his lips felt like pressed against yours, and that he was absolutely terrible at navigating the subway after the two of you missed your stop.

With the way he made you feel during your first kiss, you couldn’t wait to feel that spark of joy again.

–––

It was your first hockey game.

Your first New York Islanders hockey game where you knew a player on the ice…and more importantly, where a player was your boyfriend.

“Oh he will love it,” Hayden smirked at the #13 jersey you wore as the two of you walked with the crowd toward the arena, “I still can’t believe you thought he was a minor league hockey player.”

You lightly knocked your shoulder against hers as you let out a small laugh, “How was I supposed to know he played for the National Hockey League?” You raised your eyebrows at her, “You literally only told me his name and that we were around the same age when you set us up.”

She tipped her head back in laughter, “I thought you paid attention to sports!”

“I do!” You mirrored her smile as the two of you took out your tickets to be scanned, “But you can’t see what they look like under their helmets clearly.”

After the two of you passed security, you found yourself amongst a sea of white, navy blue, and orange as you walked to your seats, “I still can’t believe he didn’t tell you he played for the Isles.” She snickered, “He has way too big of an ego to let that slide.”

You felt your stomach churn with embarrassment as your whole body heated up.

While Mat said that he played professional hockey on your first date, he conveniently left out that he played for the New York Islanders. It was a week and a half after your first date when you found out that detail. Mat was away for a few road games, and as the two of you were texting, he casually slipped in that you should watch the game on T.V.

You thought he was joking because you didn’t think that they broadcasted minor league hockey games on television. But he called you to give you his NHL TV login and informed you to tune in at 7 PM for the New York Islanders game. Again, you thought he was joking, but you tuned in anyway.

The shock you felt through your body was unlike anything else you felt when you heard the announcers talk about how amazing Mat Barzal has played for years as an Islander. And when the camera focused in on him for a few seconds, you scrambled to text Hayden for confirmation.

But now, nearly three months into your relationship, you had found a time where your schedule worked with Mat’s to go to one of his games. He asked if you wanted to sit with his teammate’s significant others, but you said you would be more comfortable with Hayden for your first hockey game of his.

As the two of you sat down a few rows behind the Islanders bench, you tugged the sleeves of your #13 Barzal jersey over your hands. He’s your boyfriend, you thought to yourself as you felt self-conscious wearing his jersey, no need to be nervous…other people are wearing his jersey too.

But those other people didn’t share intimate moments with him. Other people didn’t know how his calloused hands felt as they delicately touched your skin. Other people didn’t know he slightly snored when he napped.

Sure, other people idolized him as a hockey player, but you were always in awe of him when you learned a specific trait about him that he didn’t share with the rest of the world.

“Do you see him?” Hayden leaned over to speak in your ear as she pointed to Mat skating on the ice, “Right there.”

With a hockey stick in his hands, Mat skated in circles to practice his puck movement. The face you admired so much was hidden under his helmet, but you could clearly see his number and last name on his jersey.

You smiled wide and nodded your head, “This is exciting.”

Hayden laughed at your eagerness to have the game start as you practically bounced in your seat. Soon enough, the players finished their warm ups and skated toward the bench. One by one, they hopped off the ice.

“I’m gonna call out his name,” Hayden smirked as she cupped her hands around her mouth.

But with wide eyes and embarrassment already in the pit of your stomach, you pulled her hands away from her mouth, “Don’t you dare––”

“Looks like he’s already found you,” Hayden’s smirk widened as she waved her hand at who you presumed was Mat.

You whipped your head around to the bench and saw Mat, with his helmet off, awkwardly half-turned around on the bench as he sat next to a number #18 and #27. And like every time you saw him, a smile that you couldn’t contain instantly made its way onto your face. You picked up your hand and animatedly waved at him with a beaming smile.

Mat lowered his head for a moment, hair slightly falling onto his forehead, and when he picked his head up to wave at you, you saw his cheeks twinged with pink coloring.

Feeling too excited watching your boyfriend play live for the first time tonight, you couldn’t help but turn your shoulder toward him as you showed off the #13 on your sleeve. When you dropped the hand that stretched out the sleeve to show him his number, you expected to see a smile as wide as yours on his face. But instead, you saw his eyes wide open and mouth formed in a straight line, jaw slightly clenched, as his chest expanded; taking in a deep breath.

Confused, you tilted your head and looked at Hayden, “Is he not happy that I’m wearing––”

Letting out her loudest laugh of the night, Hayden bent forward and clutched her stomach, “Oh, you don’t know what you’ve gotten yourself into.”

Hayden had known Mat longer than you, so you knew that she knew things about him that you weren’t privy to yet. But her comment intrigued you.

“What do you mean?”

She just shook her head as her shoulders still slightly shook.

You turned back around in hopes to see Mat, but when your eyes landed on the bench, you saw Mat being jostled between the two players he sat next to. And upon further inspection, you read the last names on the jersey’s; Beauvillier and Lee.

Lee was still elbowing Mat when Tito turned around with a wicked smile. He cupped a hand around his mouth, “Nice jersey! He loves it!”

Tito’s voice fell a little flat among the crowd that started to fill their way to their seats, but you still heard him. And his comment only spurred on more laughter from Hayden.

At this point in your relationship with Mat, you were used to Tito’s teasing. And in the time you had been in the arena, you had grown accustomed to Hayden’s laughs. You didn’t think too much of their actions, your mind still wrapped around how all you wanted was for the game to begin.

And soon enough, the game started.

You were on the edge of your seat for the entire first period, clutching Hayden’s hand anytime Mat was shoved from behind or slammed into the boards. The second period was just as thrilling, and even though a penalty was called on Mat, he caught your eye briefly before he sat down in the penalty box. And the third period…While you stood up and cheered with the rest of the arena whenever the Islanders scored, no amount of excitement in the first two periods felt as exhilarating as when you watched Mat score.

With Hayden, you leaped up and hugged her tight as you cheered with a blinding smile.

“He scored!” You held her at arm's length away before turning your attention back on the ice.

His line-mates gathered him up in a hug, patting his helmet, and then he skated out with a wide smile. Mat was on his way to high-five his teammates on the bench, but before he held his glove out for them, he quickly pointed in the general direction of where you were sitting.

To anyone, it looked like he was pointing toward the Islanders bench, or even at the fans. And while there was an increase of cheers from your section at Mat’s little call out, you knew he was pointing out one specific fan in the crowd.

After the third period ended––with the Islanders winning by three––fans could either be heard still celebrating, or seen walking up the aisles to beat the traffic. But you and Hayden stayed in your seats, and especially paid attention to Mat who was out on the ice giving a post-game interview. His voice boomed through the arena, but all you could focus on was his heavy breathing and how his hair stuck to his sweaty forehead.

With most of your section cleared out, you and Hayden walked down to the row right behind the glass that was closest to the ice. Not one to shy away from being heard, Hayden pounded her fist against the glass and shouted your boyfriend’s name, “Mat!”

She continued to pound on the glass and call out his name until his post-game interview ended. And when the camera cut, Mat’s eyebrows automatically rose as he skated toward the two of you with a smile.

Through the glass, you waved at him, “You played so well! So amazing––And that goal?! You were so incredible.” His wide smile slowly transformed into a smirk as his eyes darkened just a bit, “That was so much fun.”

Mat chuckled and shook out his hair, “‘I’m glad you had a good time.”

“You two!” Hayden called out. You and Mat both broke eye contact with each other to see your mutual friend standing a few rows up with her phone pointed at the two of you, “Smile! It’s your first hockey game together.”

You let out a soft laugh as you turned around and leaned your back against the glass, standing up on your tiptoes so you didn’t look shorter next to Mat who wore skates. And as if he was physically next to you, and not separated by plexiglass, you leaned your head towards him and smiled wider than you had ever in your life.

After Hayden finished taking more than enough photos to commemorate your first hockey game of Mat’s, you spun around to face him again. From behind, you heard an usher say that it was time for fans to leave the arena, but you clearly heard Hayden say, I’m with her and that’s her boyfriend.

You rolled your eyes at Hayden and scratched the bridge of your nose as you stared at Mat through the glass.

“I need to change,” He chuckled, “But I’ll meet you outside? Hayden knows where the exit is.”

You nodded your head vigorously, “That sounds good, yeah,” the smile you had when you took your picture together never left your face, “I still can’t believe how well you played, it was––Oh my God. I can’t wait to come to more games.”

The smirk Mat had on his face as you praised his performance morphed into a faint smile as he poked the glass with his glove where your face was, “Keep the compliments coming when I’m off the ice.” You rolled your eyes at him as he waved at you, “I’ll see you soon.”

You raised your hand to touch the cold glass, “Bye,” you whispered as your fingertips slowly trailed down the glass as you watched Mat skate away backwards.

Feeling like you were on top of the world, you spun around with a lovesick smile on your face, ready to meet your boyfriend at the exit. Walking up the aisle and out of the arena, Hayden sent you the pictures she took of you and Mat. And as you waited by the exit Mat said Hayden knew, you set your lock screen and home screen to one of the pictures taken just twenty minutes ago.

When you heard the familiar laugh of your boyfriend, your ears perked up and you put your phone in your bag. And when you saw him walking out in his game day suit with Tito––who shoved Mat’s shoulder––for the hundredth time that day, you smiled.

Standing up from the stone ledge you sat on with Hayden, you rocked on your heels as you waited for Mat to come closer. And once he wasn’t too far away, you sped walked over to Mat as Hayden walked more slowly behind you as she snorted at your eagerness.

While you found it fun to watch Mat skate around the ice having the time of his life, there was nothing you enjoyed more than hugging him. You almost didn’t see his glowing smile––one that showcased all of his teeth––before you barreled into him.

Arms wrapped tightly around his waist, you hugged him impossibly close to you, “That was––Ah!––I’m still not over how fun that was,” you pressed a kiss to his neck before tilting your head up to look at him, “I know I already said how good your goal was so good––And I’ll stop after this––But really, that was so cool how you skated around those defenders and––”

Both Tito and Hayden’s laugh caused you to stop complimenting Mat on his goal. You caught a glimpse of Mat’s glare on his two friends, and then turned your head over your shoulder to see them hanging off each other as they laughed. You felt Mat’s hands tighten around your waist, the tips of his fingers felt like they burned a hole through your clothes and scorched your skin.

“Oh don’t––Don’t mind us,” Hayden wiped a few tears away from the corners of her eyes, “Please, carry on––”

You scrunched your eyebrows together in confusion.

“Barz, will––He’ll––” Tito’s face went red as he found it harder to breathe through his laughter. But once he calmed down, he chuckled, “Don’t stop praising him, he loves it.”

Mat flipped off his friends as he raised his hand to where the 13 patch was on your shoulder. With a small smile, he tugged on your sleeve a few times, “Hayden, send me the pictures you took,” he yelled over to his still laughing friends before he pressed a quick kiss to your lips.

As the night continued on, the four of you celebrated the win and Mat’s goal with drinks at a bar. As you leaned your head on Mat’s shoulder, you learned how fun it was to attend one of his games. And you learned that the rush of joy you felt course through your veins when you saw Mat succeed was unparalleled to any feeling of happiness you had ever felt with a partner.

And late that night in Mat’s apartment, as your hands wandered through his hair, over his biceps, and across his chest…He trailed his lips across your cheek, down your neck, and down past the valley of your breasts…You also learned that Mat liked to be praised in more ways than one.

–––

It was your first I love you.

The first I love you that you said to a person where you felt the sensation of those words taking over every crevice of your body…but like your first date, those words made you anxious and light-headed at the thought of admitting it.

Love.

Love was a commitment; a feeling that shouldn’t be taken lightly when in relation to two people who mutually cared and respected each other. It was a word you cherished, a feeling you craved nothing more in the world; and it was exactly how you felt about Mat.

Eleven months into your relationship with Mat––that you didn’t even think would get this far––you knew you were in love with him. There were times the sentence almost slipped past your lips, and there were moments where you thought he would say it too…but like your first kiss, both of you were hesitant.

Since the day you met him, you learned something new about him each day, and you didn’t want to stop getting to know him.

“So, what are you doing with your break?” You spoke through your phone as you waited at a street corner for the light to change with a group of people.

Mat scoffed, “This is hardly a break,” he bitterly whispered into his phone, “Literally not even a five minute water break.”

You gripped the brown paper bag of small groceries in your hand as your heart ached at his exhausted voice. Mat explained to you that the Islanders were going through some sort of bootcamp to get them out of their losing slump. But the bootcamp was on top of their already packed schedule of games and practices.

“And they can do this?” The light changed and you moved with the crowd, “It doesn’t seem fair.”

Mat let out an exasperated breath, and you could picture him running a hand over his face, “I miss you.”

Him changing the subject wasn’t lost on you, but with the limited time Mat had and how drained he sounded, you knew better than to press the subject further.

“I miss you too,” you smiled softly as you dodged a few people walking down the opposite direction of you on the sidewalk, “I just bought stuff for dinner tonight though, so that’s––”

But your sentence was cut off as someone rudely knocked into your shoulder hard––Watch it, they sneered at you––and caused you to stumble into a few people walking next to you.

“Sorry, sorry,” you apologized to the people you crashed into. They smiled in appreciation, knowing full well that if it wasn’t for the person who bumped your shoulder, the accident would’ve been averted.

“What was that?”

Mat’s worn out voice from before disappeared as he now sounded on high alert.

“Nothing,” you let out a sigh, because while you knew it wasn’t your fault you stumbled into people, it still felt embarrassing, “But as I was saying, for dinner––”

“No, that––I heard someone yell at you,” Mat’s voice was low, insistent on what he heard on your end, “What happened? Are you okay?”

You sucked in a deep breath, “Yeah, someone just bumped into my shoulder.” Because while it was New York, and you had been bumped into plenty of times before, it had been a bit of a rough day. But you didn’t want that one thing to tip you over the edge, especially when you knew Mat was having it worse than you, “It’s fine, I’m fine. The eggs didn’t crack so it’s a win.”

Mat didn’t laugh at your attempt at a joke.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” He paused before his voice dropped to an earnest whisper, “If you need me I can leave to come get you.”

“But practice––”

“No,” Mat cut you off, “If you need me I can leave.”

You thought about it. You thought hard about just waiting off in a park for Mat to come pick you up. But the subway station you needed to enter came into your eyesight. Even though he couldn’t see you, you shook your head, “I’m fine, I’ll just need a hug when I see you later.”

At that, Mat let out a breathy chuckle, “You and me both.”

You smiled, the familiar feeling of love that started with the squeeze of your heart spread through the rest of your body.

“Dinner at your place?”

“Yeah, my place tonight,” you answered him, “How much longer of this practice?”

You could hear the eye roll Mat gave off with his irritated voice, “Three fucking hours.”

Even though you weren’t a professional athlete, you rolled your eyes with him at how ridiculous all of the intense practice sounded, “As much as I want to keep talking with you,” you dreamily smiled to yourself because there was nothing you loved more than hearing Mat’s voice, “I know you said if players were late they have to run laps after practice.” You grimaced, “And I’m about to go under for the subway.”

Mat let out a sigh, he didn’t want to stop talking with you either, “Yeah…Running laps is the penalty.”

“You should be used to those.”

Mat scoffed at your comment, ”I’ll see you later at your place.”

“Mhm, bye Mat,” you hummed as you began to make your descent below ground, “I love you.”

“Wait, what––”

You ended the call and slid your phone into your bag as you took out your subway card. Easily, you swiped your card past tourists, and walked through the turnstile to the platform back to your place. While the rest of the day wasn’t on your side, the subway was, because your train pulled up right as you got to the platform.

While there were still seats available for you to sit in, you had grown accustomed to standing in the middle of the subway cart. You hooked your elbow around the pole, so that your hand wasn’t directly touching it, as you thought about the day on your way home.

It started off normal; waking up, getting ready for work, arriving at the office. But then small things started to happen; you forgot your laptop charger back at your apartment, someone had accidentally taken your lunch from the communal fridge because they thought it was theirs, and then someone spilled coffee on your freshly printed reports. But then the day got worse; Mat texted you saying he wouldn’t be done practice until late, your co-worker best friend said they were leaving the company for a new job, and then that stranger hit your shoulder.

But hearing Mat’s voice made your day a little better.

Knowing that he took time out of his grueling schedule to check in on you made your heart flutter even more with love.

Love.

Your eyes widened as the grip you had on the handle of the paper bag dropped. Your grocery bag fell to the ground just as fast as your heart. Because the last sentence you said to Mat replayed in your mind like a broken record.

I love you.

You didn’t even realize that you had said those words. You clutched those words close to your chest; held them so tight as if it was a secret Mat didn’t already know. And now all of a sudden…Your secret was out in the open.

The bile churning in your stomach caused your body to overheat and you wanted nothing more than to be out of the subway. You picked a loose piece of skin by your thumb so hard that it started to bleed. You swore under your breath as it began to sting, and curled your hand into a tight fist––with your thumb on the inside––to put pressure on the cut.

Unable to stand still with your anxiety, you got off a stop early and walked the rest of the way back to your apartment.

You had nearly walked into several people, almost walked across the street on a red light, and more or less banged your forehead against your front door. You thought you had unlocked the door, so when you turned the door handle, stepped forward, and walked into the wooden door…you saw that your keys had fallen to the ground.

Once you properly unlocked the door, you quickly walked into your apartment and hastily set the grocery bag down on the island. With shaking hands, you buried your face into them and let out a muffled whine. Because how could you let those words out so casually? How could you have been so careless?

Mat had three more hours left of practice. And that left you with three hours in your apartment alone.

You couldn’t even bring yourself to look at your phone to see if he was still coming over. So you cleaned. You changed out of your work clothes––into a pair of athletic shorts and one of Mat’s Islander shirts––and deep cleaned as much of your apartment as you could.

And it was when you were bent sideways, windex and paper towel in hand, as you scrubbed the inside of your microwave that you heard a key in your door. You felt your heart freeze and you scrubbed the microwave even harder.

The creek of the door echoed through your modestly sized one bedroom apartment just as loud as your heartbeat pounded in your ears. The door shut the same time you heard the thump of his practice bag hit the hardwood floor.

And if you listened closely, you could hear him let out the same anxious deep breath as you.

Mat ever so slowly made his way out of the little hallway, and when you saw him appear in front of you––still bent at your awkward angle––it was as if you saw him in a different way.

Mat inhaled deeply, and then in one breath, his shoulders relaxed as he smiled at you, “I love you.”

You stared into his eyes enough times to know they were hazel, but where he stood in your kitchen, his eyes were dark brown. They weren’t illuminated with flecks of gold or green like you had seen in the past, but they were warm and inviting as his eyes captivated you in a different way than ever before. You loved his eyes.

You ran your fingers through his hair enough times to memorize the feeling how soft it felt, but his hair was a little longer in the front than usual. And with him looking like he ran right off the ice to be with you, his loose strands of scraggly hair fell messily against his forehead. You loved the way his hair framed his face.

Everything about him…from the slight stubble on his face that came close to breaking the Islanders facial hair policy, to the way he never got mad at you when you stuck your cold feet under his warm legs when you sat on the couch together. From his annoying traits, to the quirks only you knew about him, you loved everything about him

You released a breath you didn’t know you held because this…this was what it felt like to feel in love. It was fresh and exciting with hearts pounding. It was desire pouring through veins. It was a give and take; intertwined lives.

As the two of you stood in your kitchen, you learned what it felt like to feel entirely at ease with your place in the universe. For better or for worse, love is learning everything there is to know about a person.

And you couldn’t wait to learn how he loved.

–––

It was your first real fight with Mat.

And it terrified you.

The day had felt odd from the start; your routine not flowing like usual. And as the day continued on, you didn’t know what caused the negative feeling in the pit of your stomach to grow with every hour that passed. And even at the end of the work day, when you were in your own apartment, the feeling still lingered.

Already in a bad mood, you should’ve known better than to turn on a hockey game. But you knew that seeing Mat, even if it was through a T.V. screen, would make you feel better. He always made you feel better.

But he played a careless game.

It wasn’t even that he was playing bad, because honestly, he was playing really well. By the end of the first period he had two assists and handled the puck well. When the second period came around, he had scored his own goal. But Mat being Mat…he let the goal get to his head. The newfound confidence he had led him to be more aggressive with the opposing team’s players and more mouthy with the referees.

And with only six minutes left in the third period––the Islanders trailing by a few points––Mat dropped his gloves and instigated a fairly bad altercation with another player. You turned the television off before you could see Mat skate away to the penalty box.

Around an hour later when Mat walked through your apartment door the two of you stared at each other. You were curled up on the couch with a book, and he stood at the opposite end of the couch in his game day suit. He squinted his discolored left eye, his swollen bottom lip was bruised red, and you saw a few dried spots of blood on his face.

Neither of you were in the best mood, but that still wasn’t an excuse. Maybe you each expected the other to comfort you on your bad days…but that wasn’t the case for either of you now.

“I wish you were more careful,” you whispered up at him. You were still on the couch and he stood stiffly at the opposite end from you, “I don’t get why you have to fight.”

Mat let out an irritated breath out through his nostrils, “Did you even watch the game?”

Stunned by his attitude, you shut your book and rolled your eyes, “Of course I did. But that doesn’t mean––”

“Then you should know why I got in a fight.”

With a scoff, you flung the blanket off you and stood up. You mirrored his stiff position––jaw clenched, arms glued to your sides, and eyes narrowed in at him. The couch being the only barrier between the harsh words you threw at each other.

“That has nothing to do with what I said,” you huffed out, “I said you should be more careful––”

“I heard what you said,” Mat interrupted you with a snap in his tone as he shrugged off his suit jacket, “But I can’t control a fight if it happens.”

You pinched the bridge of your nose, “I watched the game, Mat. I saw that you started it.”

“So it’s my fault?” He didn’t look at you as he rolled his sleeves up to his elbows, “Look, I don’t expect you to understand everything that goes on on the ice––”

“Excuse me?”

Mat rolled his eyes and his already irritable tone of voice sharpened, “Maybe if you cared a little less you wouldn’t be mad.”

His words felt like a punch to your gut. If you cared a little less. The squeeze of your heart was different than what it felt like when he told you he loved you a few months ago. Because instead of a warm tingly feeling that lifted you up, you felt a harsh burn throughout your body that made you want to shrivel up and hide.

Mat was one of the people you cared most about in the world.

But with both of your bad attitudes, like water and oil, your words caused more separation.

Your response was harsh––If I cared a little less, then who would care about you––and it sparked Mat’s short temper. He told you there were other people, people who wouldn’t make a big deal if he got in a fight because it was hockey. The yelling continued, intentional words of hurt shouted between the two of you. And soon enough, with both of you too blinded by rage, neither of you remembered why the argument even started in the first place.

“There are other people,” Mat spat out as he breathed heavily, “People who know me better. If we weren’t together, there would be other people who––”

His cruel words caused complete and utter devastation to flood your body. And you let the anger and agony of Mat’s ill fated words overtake every logical thought in your mind.

“If you don’t need me, then what are you waiting for?!” You threw your hands up as your shrill voice cracked as bad as you felt your soul shatter. Chin wobbling and chest heaving with erratic breaths, you repeated the question. Although this time, your voice was a whisper as the destruction of your words caught up to you, “What are you waiting for?”

Mat ran a hand through his hair, shaking his head as he squeezed his eyes shut. And in a hurry, he scooped up his suit jacket from the couch and turned around. His heavy footsteps echoed through your silent apartment as you followed him to the door.

You choked on your words, “Where are you going?”

With his hand gripping the doorknob, you saw his shoulders tighten as he took a deep breath, “I can’t be with you.”

It felt as if the world froze, but at the same time, everything felt like it went too fast. A whirling sensation of grief caused you to lift your hand to cover your mouth. I can’t be with you.

You felt dizzy, unsure of if you wanted an answer to your question, “Are you…Does that mean just for now?” You bit your bottom lip as you tried your hardest to sniffle back your tears,”Or as in, you don’t want to be with me…anymore?”

Mat’s shoulders expanded in another deep breath as he mustered up the courage to turn around. Part of you wished he didn’t turn around because the heartbreak on his face looked just as bad as you felt. His chin wobbled like yours, lips pressed together in a firm line to keep his emotions to himself. His eyes were bloodshot, wide and scared like a child afraid of thunderstorms. And like yours, his chest heaved with small breaths, failing to keep his breathing under control.

“I don’t…” he shut his eyes tight and rubbed the corners of his eyes with his thumb and index finger, “Just for now.” Although his answer relieved only a sliver of anxiety you felt in the middle of your chest, it looked like he was still going to leave, “I need to leave before either of us say anything else we regret.”

Blinking rapidly, you still felt a few tears roll down your cheek as you nodded your head just as fast. You hugged your arms around your stomach and anxiously tapped your foot, “Will you…Are you coming back?”

A flash of pain crossed his face as he sucked in another deep breath, “Don't wait up for me.”

Before you could process his vague answer, his hand pressed down on the door handle and he was gone before he put his jacket back on. The door closed gently, but you would have rather it slammed shut so you would have that sound echoing in your mind instead of your insecurities.

Still hugging your stomach, you bit the inside of your cheek and slowly made your way back to the couch. As if it took all of your energy, you picked the blanket back up, wrapped it around your shoulders, and tucked yourself into the far corner. You sat alone, cold feet tucked in between the cushions, as you leaned your head back on the couch and let out a sob.

You purposefully said words to hurt him, and he had done the same with you. While the two of you had arguments before, they were never this blown out of proportion. There was never any screaming, there were never any tears, and neither of you had ever left the other’s place without reconciling. But with this fight…There was shouting, tears fell from both of you, and Mat left your place without a promise to come back.

You don’t know how many hours had passed as you stared at the wall ahead of you. But it was enough time for your cries to settle down and for the sound of a key to echo your silent home. And just like earlier in the night, Mat stood at the opposite end of the couch as you sat curled up in a blanket.

As the two of you stared at each other in silence, you learned what it felt like to sit in purgatory; not knowing if Mat was to come back that night or if you were to go days without seeing him. You learned what raw heartache truly felt like without his presence when all you wanted was a hug. And when he moved to sit next to you on the couch––finally receiving a hug from him––you also learned that he was just as sorry as you and didn’t mean any of the words he said.

You never wished to learn what a life without Mat truly felt like.

–––

The nerves you felt were worse than your first date with Mat. They had been with you for months, but they were now at an all time high that caused your hands to shake. And just like the nerves you felt before the blind date, they caused you to be twenty minutes early to the venue.

What if there was traffic? What if the piano player you and Mat hired brought the wrong sheet music? What if there weren’t enough seats? While you were twenty minutes earlier than your scheduled time that was designed to make sure you already arrived early to avoid any mishaps, it was the only way to ease your anxiety.

As you fiddled with the dress you always dreamed of wearing on this day, you inhaled a shaky breath as you stood in the private room alone. You needed space to concentrate on the fact that in less than a few hours you would have a different last name.

“Y/N?”

A light knock on the door and the call of your name caused you to whip your head. Hurriedly, you made your way to the door and leaned your shoulder against it as you made sure it was locked.

You cleared your throat, “Yeah?”

“It’s just me,” you saw the locked door handle jiggle as you heard a soft laugh on the other side, “Mat’s not with me.”

“I don’t trust you.”

You heard another laugh, this one more gentle, as Tito reassured you, “He knows about your superstitions, he wouldn’t try and sneak a glance.”

You thought about turning the best man at your wedding away, but the more you thought about it, the more you trusted him when he said Mat wasn’t with him. Mat knew you had certain superstitions you didn’t mess with; like lifting your feet up when you drove over railroad tracks or how you threw salt over your left shoulder if you spilled it.

He had learned all of those things about you.

The click of the lock coming undone caused you to hold your breath. Slowly, you cracked open the door and peered out the tiny slit with one eye. Tito had his face pressed close to the crack and you saw him close up. He didn’t pry the door like you thought, so hesitantly, you opened the door as you looked both ways to make sure your fiancé was nowhere in sight.

With the door fully open, Tito’s smile was brighter than you’d ever seen it before. He let out a low whistle, “Are you sure you I can’t marry you?”

Tito’s teasing had been a constant in the years of your relationship with Mat, and for better or for worse, it was about to extend into a lifetime.

You shoved his shoulder with your left hand, the engagement ring Mat picked out for you sparkling slightly in the light, “Shut up.”

“But really,” Tito slid both of his hands into the front pockets of his pants as he shook his head in disbelief, “You look beautiful. Mat won’t know what to do.”

“Hopefully he’ll say I do.”

Tito chuckled at your comment and then the two of you stood in silence. But when he slightly bowed his head and awkwardly rocked on his feet, you knew there was a purpose for his visit when he looked up at you.

“There is…Mat…” He took a deep breath, preparing himself for your answer, “He wants to talk with you.” Your eyes bulged out of your head as you immediately stepped back into the private room and went to slam the door shut. But Tito stuck his foot out in time to stop the door from slamming shut, “He’s not here––he’s still out there talking with people, but he heard you got here early early started sweating, and he just wants to hear your voice––”

You shook your head behind the door, “No.”

“C’mon,” Tito pleaded with you, “I’m sure it’ll calm you down to hear him––”

“What if he sees me?” You exasperatedly said, “Even if it was an accident. That would––”

“He won’t,” Tito’s voice held just as much firmness to it as he had confidence in his best friend, “He knows you too well to break your superstition.”

He knows you.

Hearing Mat’s voice would calm you down, but the anxiety of him accidentally seeing you before you walked down the aisle was too much. It was almost too much nervousness for you to handle on your own, so with a deep breath and a silent prayer that this wouldn’t blow up in your face, you whispered to Tito that Mat could talk to you.

Tito had spun around to retrieve Mat before you could finish your sentence. He rushed away from you, afraid you would back out on your word. But just as fast as Tito ran away, you slammed the door shut and relocked it.

You turned around and leaned your back against the door. Pinching the bridge of your nose to relieve some of the stress, you let out a deep breath. With only a few moments to yourself, you did a few breathing exercises before a shallow knock sounded from the other side of the door.

“Uh, Y/N?”

You could pick out his voice from anywhere, and you let out an audible sigh of relief, “Mat?”

He also let out a deep breath, and you could picture his shoulders relaxing at confirmation he didn’t walk up to an empty room. You turned around and placed your hand softly on top of the door handle; resting your forehead on the door you whispered, “I’m so nervous.”

“So am I,” Mat let out an airy laugh, “We’re the ones who decided to marry each other, yet we’re both a mess.”

You replicated his laugh and it went back to silence. You had spent years together with Mat, but no silence had ever been more poignant than this. You could hear his love, almost feel it, but you couldn’t see him. Not yet.

It was his trembling voice that broke through the silence, “Can I hold your hand?”

“Mat––”

“I’ll turn around,” he rushed out, knowing how strongly you felt about this superstition, “You can stay behind the door––just with your arm sticking out––We can both turn around so we make sure we don’t chance anything, because I––” he cut himself off, calming himself down with a single breath, “I really need a hug, but we can’t do that.�� He let out another deep breath, “Please?”

You loved him more than anyone else in the world, and in turn, you would do anything for him; including holding his hand.

You couldn’t wipe the smile off your face, and you were positive he could hear it, “Turn around.”

And with a click of the door unlocking, you opened it just a sliver of a bit open and turned around yourself. You stuck your left hand out for him, and in an instant, his hand found yours. You felt tears well up in your eyes out of happiness, because even though you could feel him now you still couldn’t believe you were going to spend the rest of your life with him.

You filled the silent void with your voice and added a futile point to the non-existent conversation. But you wanted him to know this about you, “I showed up to our first date twenty minutes early.”

Mat chuckled as he repeatedly stroked his thumb on top of your engagement ring, “I know.”

You squeezed his hand, “You know?”

Again, Mat let out another soft laugh, “I was thirty minutes early to our first date.” You felt your wide open mouth transform into a smile, “I was across the street and saw you waiting.” He lowered his voice, “I was so scared.”

You were convinced that was maybe the only thing he didn’t know about you, but he proved you wrong. Time and time again he proved himself to know you better than you knew yourself.

“Tell me something I don’t know about you,” you whispered.

“You know me better than anyone else.”

The way he continued to trace around your engagement ring caused your heart to squeeze; it only made you more excited for when there would be a second ring on your finger, “There has to be something.”

You felt your heart pound against your ribcage as a few beats of silence passed over. From his drawn out silence, you knew he had something, you knew he was debating on whether to tell you or not.

“The picture we took together at the first hockey game you came to,” you could hear the shy smile on his face, “I’ve kept it in my locker since then.”

You felt your heart melt and chin wobble; this was something new you were learning about him.

“And I…” He let out a nervous laugh, and ever since the first time heard the sound of it, it was infectious, “I have it with me now in the inner-pocket of my jacket.”

A lone tear trailed down your cheek as you tried to sniffle the rest of the tears you felt behind your eyes away. It was your wedding day, of course you were going to cry, but you didn’t think it would be this soon.

Mat’s hand briefly dropped yours as you heard a crinkle of photo paper being taken out of Mat’s jacket pocket. You felt the corner of a piece of paper hit the palm of your hand a few times. Gently, and without looking down, you took the picture from Mat’s hand. And when you brought the picture up to your face, you squeezed Mat’s hand hard as an audible gasp left your lips.

The two of you looked so young. Which made sense considering the picture was taken a few years ago. You smiled at the memory as if it happened yesterday; you in your #13 Barzal jersey, tilting your head toward Mat as if you were leaning your head on his shoulder if the plexiglass wasn’t there. Hayden had taken a hundred pictures of the two of you, but this was different than the one you kept framed at your office.

You looked the same, but Mat looked different.

He still had his hockey stick in hand, but instead of looking at the camera like you, his head was faced down toward you. His eyes were locked in on your smile, wide in admiration. His closed-lipped smile was bashful, but you could clearly see the happiness radiating off him. That day, while you looked into the camera, still high off excitement from watching him on the ice; he looked down at you with all the love he held for you in his soft eyes.

“I even take it with me on road games.”

Tracing your fingers down the worn down, slightly torn up, and bent edges of the picture, you felt another tear roll down your cheek.

While you wanted nothing more to look at the well loved photograph of the two of you in love before either of you knew it, you didn’t want to cry too much before walking down the aisle. You handed the picture back to him so he had it for safekeeping, and squeezed his hand again.

“I love you so much,” you breathed out.

“I love you, too.”

As the two of you continued to hold hands until Mat was called away in order for you to start the last of your wedding preparations, you learned that Mat cherished the small moments. Whether he wanted to memorize the first time he fell in love with you by carrying around a photograph from early on in your relationship, or how he wanted to hold your hand before the two of you committed to a lifetime together…You learned more about him in those moments than ever before.

And when Mat would eventually slide a ring onto your finger––and you to his––it felt as if the rings held a promise heavier than til death do us part. From the moment you met Mat until now, the most important thing you learned about him was how good of a friend he was to you.

You couldn’t wait to spend the rest of your life as his friend.

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witchyweasley · 3 years

Text

Unfinished Business ~ Ron Weasley

Pairing: gamer! gamer!Ron Weasley x fem!Reader

Summary: Ron has been gaming with his friends for too long, so you take matters into your own hands.

Word Count: 1.5k

Warnings: smut, 18+ themes, exhibition (?), oral,

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Ron you’ve been playing for hours, I thought you said you’d be done in 20 minutes?” I sighed, flipping over on the bed behind his gaming set up. The dual screens flashed different things, one being a chat room, the other was the game.

“I will, we just have to do this before we can get off,” Ron said, not taking his eyes away from the screen.

“That was 2 hours ago, I thought we’d spend some time together tonight since it’s the first night off I’ve had in ages,” I whined. The lace set I had slipped on after my shower to surprise Ron with was now itchy and uncomfortable, these things aren’t meant to be worn this long.

“Just a minute babe,” he said, his eyes still glued to the screens in front of him. I decided to try something after another 10 minutes of keyboard clicking and him talking to the boys over headset.

Making sure his camera was off, I quietly stripped out of the sleep set I had on, finally revealing the lacy set. I threw my shorts over at Ron, landing right on his shoulder.

“What the-, oh bloody hell,” he said as he turned around and saw me in his favorite set.

“Hey,” I said, walking over to him. I heard him mute his mic quickly.

“How long have you been wearing that…” he asked, his eyes fixed on my hips as they swayed.

“Long enough, but go ahead and play your game, I know you promised them you’d finish this game,” I said, kneeling down in front of him.

“What are you- oh fuck,” he moaned out as my hands palmed his erection through his pants.

“Go ahead and keep playing. I can hear them asking you where you are,” I winked as I released his dick from the confines of his pants, pumping it slowly and feeling him get even harder.

“Hey guys, sorry about that. I uhhh, I just had to get some water.” He said as he unmuted himself, watching me in disbelief as I licked up his length before swirling my tongue around his tip, collecting any pre-cum.

He let out a low groan as I took as much of him in my mouth as I could, but quickly covered it up with a cough when he remembered his friends could hear him.

“Yeah, yeah I’m fine. Just a tickle in my throat, haha,” he rushed out in response to the boy’s questions.

I bobbed my head and hollowed my cheeks as I took more of his length in my mouth, swirling my tongue on the tip as I reached the top. His hand pushed my hair into a makeshift ponytail, lightly pulling on my hair the way I like.

I looked up at him and found his head dropped back and mouth open as he tried to hold back his moans. Right as he started to buck his hips up, I released him from my mouth and sat back on my heels.

“How’s the game going babe?” I smirked, pumping his length in my hand as I look up at him.

“...tell her we say hi!” I heard Harry say over headset.

“Actually, why don’t you tell her yourself. Here you go babe, the boys want to talk to you,” Ron smirked, pulling the headset off and placing it on me.

“Hey…” I said slowly, confused at the smirk on Ron’s face. Ron stood me up and swiftly switched so that I was in the chair and he was kneeling on the ground.

“Hey! How have you been?” Harry responded.

“I’ve been...great!” I breathed out as Ron’s hands slid up and pushed my legs up so they would rest on the arms of the chair. My breathing hitched as his thumb brushed over my clothed clit, rubbing agonizingly slow circles.

“How’s work? I heard you’ve been pretty busy lately,” Dean asked me.

“Oh um, yeah! Quidditch season is always busy at the hospital…” I said quickly, trying not to moan as Ron’s finger pushed the lingerie aside so he could swipe his tongue through my folds.

“Are you okay? It sounds like you’re out of breath?” Neville asked, sounding a bit worried. I bit my lip and let out a sigh as Ron swirled his tongue around my clit.

“Yeah! Yeah! I um…. I just got done working out,” I lied, bucking my hips up as Ron continued lapping up my juices.

“I didn’t know you worked out! Do you want a gym buddy? Ginny keeps trying to recruit me for it, but I don’t think I can handle that,” Harry laughed.

“That’s...that’s a good idea, but- I only just started and I think she would kick my ass,” I stumbled as Ron sat back and used his thumb to circle over my clit, smirking when I stumbled on a word.

After swiping his tongue through my pussy for a final time, Ron held my hands and pulled me up, holding me tight as his lips attached to my neck. If it weren’t for the tight grip on my waist, I’d be a puddle on the floor right now. He flipped me around so that I was facing the monitor and his back was pressed up against mine.

“Hey boys, do you mind if she plays a round while I go grab a snack really quick?” Ron said into the mic of the headset.

“Sure! You know what you’re doing, right?” Dean asked me.

“Uh, yeah… I’ve watched Ron play it enough, I think I can figure it out,” I said, a bit confused as to what Ron’s plan was.

As the next round started, he pressed his hand to the middle of my shoulder blades and pushed me down so that I was bent over in front of the desk. His hands smacked my ass lightly a couple times before he pulled the lingerie aside again and swiped the head of his cock through.

“Oh fuck,” I said quietly as he slowly pushed into me, filling me inch by inch.

“You alright?” Harry asked.

“Yeah, I-uh, I just fell off something, that’s all,” I said.

“I hate when I do that, it’s the worst,” Neville chimed in.

I stumbled through the game as I tried to focus on something other than the way Ron’s cock was stretching me out right now. His pace was slow and steady, fully taking himself out before slowly sheathing himself back into me.

“Hmmm, is there any way to go faster?” I asked the boys, but hoping that Ron caught onto my message.

“If you press the CTRL key, you should run faster,” Harry said. I barely heard him though because Ron thankfully did catch on. He pounded into me at a much better pace, causing my tits to bounce out of the low-cut lingerie and my breathing to pick back up again. His hand snaked around to toy with one of my nipples as his other one guided my hips back onto him. It took everything in me not to scream with pleasure as he hit all the right spots.

I accidentally let out a loud whine as I came on Ron’s cock, causing the boys to ask questions.

“I died,” I quickly said to cover up the noise.

“You lasted longer than I did, I died a while ago,” Dean said.

Ron was panting as he continued pounding me, trying not to make too much noise. It wasn’t long before me pulled out and finished on the small of my back. He pressed a couple kisses to my back before heading to our bathroom to grab a towel.

“Not that we don’t love playing with you, but is Ron back yet? I feel like this is the longest he’s taken to get a snack,” Harry said once the round was over.

“Ah-ha, here he is! Thanks for letting me play you guys, I’ll let you all talk to Ron,” I said as Ron came in with a towel. He cleaned me up as the boys said their Chorus of goodbye’s before I put the headset back on him.

Ron immediately muted the mic and pressed a hot kiss to my lips, “That was quite possibly the hottest thing I’ve ever seen, holy fuck.”

“Oh you’re not off the hook yet. We have some lost time to make up from earlier,” I smirked before pressing a kiss to his lips and crawling onto our bed.

“Hey guys, so it looks like I’ve gotta head off here. There’s some, um, unfinished business that I need to take care of,” Ron said before logging off and pouncing on top of me, attacking me with kisses and love.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

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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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dreamifics · 3 years

Text

Love and Monsters

Steve Harrington x Reader!Henderson

Oneshot

Y/N Henderson's life was not like any other normal teenager's life, on a very young age her only friends was her brother, Dustin and his friends.. She was not popular in highschool, but she was not a nobody neither.. Y/N was just invisible, lost in the sea of students.. She was almost through highschool though, one day her life was turned upside down, literally and figuratively.. It's been months since the 'thing' happend, but she was still shaken up.

Y/N was laying in bed, My Generation blasting from her stereo.. She was home alone, her mother was out with some friends, her brother was hanging out with 'King Steve'.. Ever since Steve helped them about Dart, she grew closer to Steve but their short lived friendship ended when Dustin left for camp and Steve worked on their family business while she was stuck preparing herself for college.. Y/N misses Steve, his unfunny jokes and oh god--his laugh..

A loud knock startled her, she shot up from her bed, memories of what happend was flashing back to her.. Despite what she tells her friend, she was not okay.. She almost died twice and that opened up trauma's and issues within herself..

Another loud knock startled her, Y/N shakes her head and just ran to the door.. Reaching their front door, her icy hands made contact with the cold steel knob..

It revealed a disheveled Dustin and Steve, she could tell that there were excitement dripping all over them.. Steve was still wearing his sailor work uniform, he looked cute to Y/N but she once threw that thought in the back of her mind..

"What's up?" She questioned the two.

Dustin just smiled and pushed pass her, while Steve was reluctant to go in.. Steve avoided Y/N for almost the whole summer because of the daunting realization that he was catching feelings for her and that scared him.. Y/N was the kind of girl that likes to watch nerdy movies, spend hours playing games with a bunch of kids and save the world two times.. However, Steve was scared, he was still stuck in the unjustified rules of highschool and popularity. . He still wanted to be 'King Steve', but he also wanted to be Y/N's..

"Nice outfit, sailor boy.." Y/N winked and laughs at Steve, he just shakes his head and went inside their house..

Steve made his way to Dustin's room with Y/N right behind him, but before reaching Dustin's room, he passed Y/N's room.. He unconsciously stopped as he looks around, observing every corner of her room.

There were posters plastered all over her walls, books were all around her room in her bed, shelves and even floors.. In the other side she had a small collection of music that made Steve smile.. Because they had the exact same taste, she is the perfect girl.

"If you want to go in, you're free to wander around my room, anytime.."

Steve turned around to face Y/N, he misses her.. How Y/N sarcastic remarks leave her sweet lips or how she rolls her eyes whenever she see something stupid.

"I might just take you up on that.."

"Hm-mm.. You didn't even talk to me when Dustin left, you broke my heart, Steviee.." She jokes, but it sounded a little bitter.

Y/N did get hurt, Steve stopped talking to her when Dustin left, it seems like Steve didn't really like her as much as she thinks he did. Y/N was bored and got stuck just studying and sometimes hanging out with the party.. It was fun but she was looking forward to hanging out with Steve.

"I'm sorry about that, I didn't want to see my old friends hanging out with someone like yo---" Steve stopped his sentence, he didn't mean that.. His mind was a mess, he said those things because he didn't want Y/N finding out his stupid feelings

"Right..Yeah, I get it.."

"Y/N that's not what I me--"

"Cause King Steve shouldn't be hanging out with people like me?Gotcha.."

Steve didn't even had the time to reply, he was met with Y/N's slamming door.. He didn't mean that.. Steve loved hanging out with Y/N, he want to give her something special.. Steve wanted something more from Y/N.. He knew exactly what and he didn't need a reason why but Steve wanted to give Y/N something more..

Y/N was hurt, she didn't know why but Steve words brought devastation to her.. She felt disappointed and upset, Y/N was expecting something special.. She didn't know what or why but she was expecting something more from Steve.

Y/N was dropping off Dustin to the mall where Steve was working, her lips were in a unsual frown.. Y/N wasn't usally like this, she was having a bad week, Steve just hurt her feelings and she was taking it much harder, it was very unsual.. The two Henderson was making their way to the Scoops Ahoy shop, Dustin was rambling about a message he picked up while contacting his girlfriend.

"Are you listening?" Her brother asked as they reach the store.

"Yepp, you should go in now.."

"Y/N, this could be a good thing!"

"I know..If you need my help, you can find me in the food court.."

"Y/N.."

"Yeah, Dus?"

"Are you okay?"

Y/N's mind went blank, she hated lying to her brother but she didn't want to worry anyone. She laughs and messed Dustin's hair.

"Of course.. Now go, you know where to find me.." With that she left..

Y/N was not okay, the last time she slept was a month ago.. Nightmares kept crawling back to her, she was growing more paranoid by the day.. She was not okay, but she couldn't tell anyone that.. Everyone else is okay, even Wil who had it more rough than her. And to top that up, she was broken hearted by Steve's rejection of their friendship.. Y/N just massaged the bridge of her nose, when will she be fine?

Dustin and Steve was in the corner of the mall with binoculars in their eyes, Steve saw Y/N.. Sitting alone in the corner, a walkman in her ears and a book in hand.. Y/N was mouthing the word as her eyes read every word on that book and Steve couldn't help but feel all giddy and guilty inside.

"You see anything?" Dustin snapped Steve back to their current task.

"Uh, I guess I don't totally know what I'm looking for.'' Steve answered honestly, Y/N distracted him again.

"Evil Russians."

"Yeah, exactly. I don't know what an evil Russian looks like."

"All blond, not smiling."

"Mm-hmm?" Steve's eyes didn't looked for any Russians, his eyes drifted to Y/N spot but she was gone.. Where did she go? He couldn't help but worry, was she talking to someone else?

"Also, look for earpieces, camo, duffel bags, that sort of thing." Dustin added.

"Right, okay, duffel bags." Steve darts his eyes away from Y/N seat but it only fell on a girl he asked out earlier.

"Oh, you've gotta be kidding me." Steve mutters.

"What?" Dustin questioned.

"Anna Jacobi's talking with that meathead Mark Lewinsky."

"If you're not gonna focus, just gimme the binoculars."

Dustin got annoyed by his distracted partner, he should have brought his sister along.. But he knew that Y/N was not okay, she seemed distant and lost in her own mind.. Always spacing out and Dustin can hear her cries from his room, it killed him to see her loving and hyper sister transform into a walking corpse.

"Aw, Jesus Christ, whatever happened to standards?"

"I mean, Lewinsky never even came off the bench." Steve rambled on, annoying Dustin.

"Dude, you are the worst spy in history, you know that?"

The two fought for the binoculars, but they just looked stupid.. Dustin initially gave up and gave the binoculars to Steve.

"I don't get why you're looking at girls. You have the perfect one in front of you."

"Seriously, if you say Robin again..." Steve closes his eyes waiting for Robin's name to come up but it never did.

"No, Y/N.. My sister.."

Steve's heart clenched at the mention of her name, he wants Y/N too.. What can he do? Y/N hates his ass now, he was a jerk and he didn't deserve Y/N.

"No, man, she's not my type." Steve answered while he diverts his eyes away from Dustin.

"I saw you staring at her closed door for about 5 minutes."

Steve eyes grew wide at the realization that Dustin was watching the whole time.. Dustin just shakes his head, if he was asked he'd say that her sister felt the same way..

"She's not even... in the ballpark of what my type is, all right?"

"What's your type again? Not awesome?"

"Thank you."

"Hm."

"For you information, your sister is too sarcastic, she's too nerdy for me.."

"Also, she's too...boyish.."

Beautiful, that's what he wanted to say..

"Dude, that's my sister you're talking about, and besides she's not like that.. She's nerdy but so what? Y/N's also not boyish, she's just secured with her masculinity.."

Dustin's word echoed throughout Steve's system, he already knew that.. But somehow hearing it from another person's perspective made him like you more.

"Y/N's just not my type.." He lied..

Y/N was everything he ever wanted in a girl.

"Thanks for the clarification, Harrington." A voice surprised the two.

Y/N was standing behind them, her arms crossed.. Steve's eyes widen in surprise, did she hear everything? He didn't mean that, what did he mean?

"I didn't mean t--"

"Dustin, if you told me you'll stalk people in malls, I should've brought you to a psychiatrist.." Y/N ignored Steve and just focused on her brother.. Y/N would be lying if she haven't felt more hurt by the words Steve dropped.. She had been listening since the talk about girls came up, Y/N spotted the two doing eccentric things and she decided to eavesdrop.

"No, it's called spying.." Dustin rolled his eyes at her sister remarks while Steve was still frozen..

"What's the difference?" Y/N asked, her eyes still focused on he brother..

"It's just different, okay? Were looking for the--" Dustin stopped and looks around to see if anybody was near..

"Russians?" Y/N continued in a loud tone.

"Shh!" Both Steve and her brother shushed her. Y/N was surpised, she glares at the two and moved closer to them.

"Fine, can I tag along? I'm bored and it'll be nice to be a national hero."

The two looked at each other, Steve was nervous.. Y/N obviously didn't want him around, but this could be a chance for him to apologize to Y/N.

"Sure, you can help us look for russians with dufflebags and camo." Dustin pulled her sister to his side.

"That's kinda racis--"

"No, it's not!" Dustin cuts her sister off making Y/N laugh..

"Whatever you say Dus.."

And that's how she ended up inside a theater with two kids and two drugged teenagere.. Y/N's breathing was heavy, they were captured by Russians just moments ago.. Adrenaline was pumping through her veins, she thought this town was finally normal again, but turns out she was wrong.. Very very wrong..

They needed to get out of this hellish mall, Y/N need to find out if there's still russians lurking out, looking for them.

"The two of you need to stay here and take care of them." Y/N instructs to her brother, she pointed at a floopy Steve and Robin.

"Wait--Where are you going?!" Dustin stopped her by pulling her arm.

"I'm going to see if those fuckers are still looking for us.."

"No, we'll come with you.."

"Dustin, you need to stay here and keep a low profile.."

"Y/N don't be a hero.."

"Hey, Dipshit!I'm not trying to be a hero, what I'm doing is protecting you guys because our two friends are drugged and beaten while we brought a little kid into our mess!And I will do everything to keep you all safe, even if that means I get hurt or killed!"

Dustin knew that there's no talking Y/N out of this, her sister was right.. Taking a deep breath, he just nods and hugs her sister..

"Just please, stay safe.." Dustin was in the verge of tears but Y/N held him tight in her arms.. Dustin pulled back, Y/N gave her brother a comforting smile, she rubbed his cheeks and pat his head.

"I'll be okay, I'm a Henderson for god's sake.."

Dustin laughs as tears stroll in his face, she kissed his forehead and walked away, trying not to attract attention.. Taking a deep breath she left the theater, she'll do whatever it takes to keep her brother and her friends.. Y/N's mind flew to Steve, she was pissed off but she was not sure anymore.. The way he saved them and got beat up for them, she couldn't find a reason to be mad at him, all she can think about is his childlish look and how hot he is in his sailor uniform. Y/N just shakes those thoughts away and tried to focus on her task..

Russians..

Steve and Robin were throwing up in a seperate cubicles, they were getting the drugs out of their system.. Retching and puking can be heard all through out the theater bathroom, Steve groans and flushes the toilet.

"The ceiling stopped spinning for me. Is it still spinning for you?" Robin's voice can be heard from the other cubicle.

"Holy shit. No. You think we puked it all up?" Steve rested his back to the mini wall inside the cubicle..

"Maybe. Ask me something.."

"Interrogate me." Robin said in a mocking russian accent.

"Okay. Interrogate you. Sure. Um... When was the last time you, uh, peed your pants?"

"Today."

"What?"

"When the Russian doctor took out the bone saw."

"Oh... All right, my turn."

"Okay. Hit me."

"Have you... ever been in love?"

"Yep. Nancy Wheeler. First semester, senior year." Steve imitates a gunshot.

"Are you still in love with Nancy?"

"No."

"Why not?"

"I found someone else, she's a little bit better for me.It's crazy. Ever since Dustin got home, he's been saying, 'You know, you gotta find your Suzie. You gotta find your Suzie.' "

"Wait, who's Suzie?"

"It's some girl from camp, I guess his girlfriend. To be honest with you, I'm not 100% sure she's even real."

" But that's not- that's not really the point. That doesn't matter. The point is, this girl, you know, the one that I like, it's somebody that I... didn't even talk to in school. And I don't even know why."

"Maybe 'cause Tommy H. would've made fun of me or... I wouldn't be... prom king. It's stupid. I mean, Dustin's right, it's all just a bunch of bullshit anyways. Because, when I think about it, I should've been hanging out with this girl the whole time."

"First of all, she hates me now because of a stupid thing I said but when we hanged out, we were bonding and shit.. She was perfect for me, she's nerdy, hangs out with kids too much.. She likes the same things I like, her brother is my bestfriend.. Sometimes I wonder if she's real, because she's too perfect."

"Wait--You like Y/N?"

"Yeah, ever since last year.. I like her so damn much, I can't even believe that I said to her that I shouldn't be hanging out with someone like her."

"YOU SAID THAT?" Robin's voice boomed out all over the bathroom, Steve just sighs and slids out of the cubicle..

"Unfortunately, yes.."

Steve slid in to Robins cubicle, she was glaring at him.

"If you ask me, Y/N doesn't deserve someone like me.. She--She's too nice to be caught up in my miserable life.. And besides she would never like me.."

"I think you're still high.."

"No, I'm not.."

"Do you remember what I said about Click's class? About me being jealous and, like, obsessed?"

"Yeah?"

"It isn't because I had a crush on you. It's because... she wouldn't stop staring at you.."

"Mrs. Click?" Robin chuckles and just shakes her head.

"Y/N Henderson, I wanted her to look at me. But... she couldn't pull her eyes away from you and your stupid hair. And I didn't understand, because you would get bagel crumbs all over the floor. And you asked dumb questions. And you were a douchebag. And- And you didn't even like her then and... I would go home... and just scream into my pillow."

"But Y/N's a girl.."

"Steve.."

"Oh.."

"Yeah, now listen..Don't give me the 'she doesn't deserve me' and 'she doesn't like me back' crap.. Y/N was inlove with you since highschool, now you will tell her all about your mushy mushy feelings and you'll two will get married, have kids and you'll have me to thank for. "

"But what about you?"

"Please, I moved on.."

"Really?"

"Hell yeah, with my pretty face?I could find someone in a jiffy!"

The two were laughing when Dustin and Ericka burst into the bathroom.. Annoyance and frustration written all over their face..

"Okay.What the hell?!" Dustin asked very annoyed.

"Dude, we're normal again.."

"That's not the problem now, we need to find Y/N and go with the rest of the party."

"Y/N's not with you?"

"Do you see her?" Erica asked with the normal sass in her voice. Robin rolls her eyes at Erica who just glares at her.

"Where did she go?" Steve ignored Erica's sarcastic question

"She said she'll check the perimeter, but she hasn't come back since." Dustin answered, she was worried for her sister.. In their situation, who wouldn't?

"Shit." Steve and Robin both utter at the same time.

Y/N was changed into a much more inauspicious clothes, it was just some pants and a shirt tucked into it.. She fixed her disheveled hair and wiped her sweat.. She needed to blend in, her eyes wander around the mall.. There were Russians walking around, bviously looking for someone and that someone was them.. All the exits are heavily guarded by guards, there's no way out..

Taking a deep breath she walked back to the theater, praying that her brother and friends was safely still there but before she could even reached the theater, a russian man spotted her..

"I got eyes on one of the target!" The russian said into his earpiece, making Y/N run to the higher level of the mall, her heart racing and she was starting to feel tired.

Y/N just ran until she lost the russian, her breathing was getting shorter by the second.. Y/N's leg was starting to hurt but she ignored it and looked down to see if she can spot her brother..

And there they are, getting chased by guards.. Worries pumped into her brain as they run.. She needed to help them, if not they could get killed.

"Hey stupid spies!I'm right up here, morons!" Y/N screamed at the top of her lungs as she waves her hands around..

Steve and Dustin was horrified as they hide into the counters, Y/N was risking her life for theirs..

The guards that was chasing them made eye contact and targeted Y/N but before they could do anything a car honk.. The russians looked at each other, confused and dazed.. Eleven can be seen controlling the car, she throws it at the bad men and all they could hear were groans..

Y/N felt a surge of relief, she made her way to her brother.. Dustin, Robin, Erica and Steve pop out from behind the counter, steam hissing.. Y/N saw her brother and they all rushed up to hug her..

A tight hug welcomed Y/N, but this hug wasn't just from Dustin.. It was also from Robin, Erica and Steve.. Suddenly they all look up to see the rest of the party.. The hug was cut off by Dustin running to hug Mike and Eleven.

"Lucas?" Erica saw her brother and it made Lucas confuse..

"What are you doing here?"

Y/N who was just taking in deep breaths smiled to herself.. They were safe, but she knew this was not over.. Steve stayed in Y/N side, Robin's word replayed in his mind.. This is his chance to say his undying love to Y/N.

"Y/N?"

"Hmm?" Y/N saw Steve besides her, she was growing tired but Y/N needed to keep thriving for everyone.. Y/N saw that Steve was hesitant, he was nervous and it made her felt nervous too.

"I--I uhh.." Steve mumbles, his tongue was backing out.. Y/N had such a powerful effect on him, to the way she says his name, and everytime Y/N calls him, his heart skips a beat.. It sounds corny, but it was true..

"What?Do you need a speak and spell?" Y/N joked, it didn't help a struggling Steve.. He started to grew more anxious, he needed to get this off his chest.. This could be the last time they all see each other alive, there's no telling what could happen to them.

Y/N was just staring at him

"I have something to confess---"

Steve was cut off by El who was in pain and grunting in the floor.. They all ran to her aid and helped her with the pain she was going through.. Steve slightly curses at himself, maybe this was not a great time for a love confession.. He needed to focus on surviving this hellish adventure.. Again

It finally ended.. Y/N was relieved, it was over.. They were safe, Y/N and Dustin were sitting in the back of an ambulance, a blanket around them as they hug each other..

"If this shit happens again, we're moving.." Y/N jokes.. Dustin chuckled, maybe they should.. However, the adventures were growing more fun and dangerous..

"Nah, we love being heroes.."

Y/N laughs as she held her brother tighter, she fixed his hair and wipe some dirt off his face.. Even if he's old now, he'll always be Y/N's baby brother.. She smiled at the memory of Suzie and Dustin singing in the middle of mayhem and chaos.

"Stooop, I'm all grown up now!" He stood up and made his way to his friends..

"Don't get too far, lover boy!" Y/N shouted causing Dustin's cheek to blush..

Y/N sighs at the sight of her brother walking away from her, this is the last time she'll save the world, she was tired of monsters.. Y/N was just enjoying the cold air of the night when someone cleared their throat.

"Hello to you Harrington.." Y/N smiled at Steve, he was just standing infront of her.. Y/N can't help but feel giddy when Steve's in his sailor outfit.. It saddens her that Steve was still stuck in his highschool mindset..

"I have something to tell you.." Steve mumbles incoherently, but Y/N understood it.. Steve was always nervous when Y/N's around, he remember the first time he saw Y/N..

Steve saw Dustin on the street asking for help, and he didn't believe at him first but he was soon convinced by how Dustin was nervous and scared.. They pulled up at the Henderson's residence, that's where he first saw--no that's not the right word..

That's where he first acknowledged Y/N..

She was sitting on the porch steps on her pajama's, there were dirt on her face and her hairs a mess.. Y/N's face lighten up when he saw Dustin getting out of the car..

"Hey Dus------What is he doing here?" Y/N's face dropped when he saw Steve also getting out of the car.

"He's our back up.." Her brother answered short and continue walking into the entrance of the basement.

"I'm back up..'' Steve said cocky at Y/N, she just scoffs and followed Dustin..

"For a guy with a black eye, you're awfully confident.."

"That's what seeing a pretty girl like you does to me.." Steve didn't know what he ate that time but he had this whole new confidence when he started talking to Y/N.. However, Y/N didn't seem impressed to his corny jokes and pick up lines, she was always scoffing and rolling her eyes..

"Yeah, you said that too when we were inside..That" Y/N's voice pulled him back to the present.. Y/N gestured at the burning mall infront of them.

"Yeah.." Steve cleared his throat, he opens his mouth, but the words won't come out he's chokin', how, everybody's jokin' now, the clocks run out, times up, over, blaow .

"Are you gonna say something?" Y/N was starting to get nervous, did she do something to make Steve act strange? He was shaking, the sweat on his forehead is flowing like the Niagara Falls.. That's not attractive yet for some reason she found it hot..

"Oh--Yeah--Uhh.." He failed to say words again, why can't he just go straight to the point?

Robin who was with the rest of the party was staring at a stuttering and nervous Steve.. The rest started to notice even Jonathan and Nancy who was in each others arms..

"When is he gonna tell my sister that he likes her?" Dustin ponder as he stares at the two..

"I don't know, he's taking forever just uttering one sentence.." Lucas pitched in making the others laugh..

"I thought Steve was a suave and cool guy?" Mike jokes causing some of them to laugh, some was just quiet.. They were still having a hard time grasping all of this, especially Max..

"He's a nerd just like you guys.." Nancy answered, they all shake their heads as they watch Steve nervously fidgets..

"Alright, I finally had enough.." Robin whispers, the party turned to Robin, carefulky watching to what she had under her sleeves..

"HEY Y/N!" Robin shouts..

Y/N broke her gaze with Steve and brought it to a shouting Robin, not far from them.. Steve just froze to his place, panic started blaring out through his mind..

"WHAT STEVE'S TRYING TO SAY IS HE FREAKING LIKES YOU!" Robin shouted, and it all made them freeze.. Y/N blinked rapidly, did she hear that right? Steve l-likes her? What? When? How? Where?

Steve felt embarrased, he wanted the crawl in a hole and die.. Robin was dead to him, how could she do that? Now Y/N's gonna start to avoid him, she obviously doesn't like her back.

"I-Is that true?" Y/N finally asked the question she was dying to ask, she never really thought about Steve that way.. Fine, she's not gonna lie, there were some thoughts about Steve that kept her up at night..

"I can explain--If you don't feel the same it's totally fi----" Steve panicked and randomly said any excuses he can think off, not giving Y/N a chance to speak..

Y/N rolled her eyes at how Steve was rambling on, she smiled and stands up.. Pulling Steve sailor outfit, she kissed him..

Steve pressed his lips harder on Y/N, he wanted this kiss to happen since he first saw her.. And now it's happening, Y/N puts her arm around Steve's neck.. This was her first kiss and she was glad that it was to Steve.. They both kissed as the burning Star Court crumbles infront of them. Y/N didn't knew that you can find love and monsters in this terrifying situation..

Dustin groaned at the sight of her sister and bestfriend kissing, he wanted to vomit and scoop his eyes out.. This was not a sight for sore eyes..

"Ugh!I don't want to watch my sister exchange salivas with Harrington!" Dustin sigh under his breath

"Get used to it, you'll be seeing a lot of him.." Robin teased making Dustin die inside.

"Dammit!"

Y/N was just thinking that some people lost someone special, Eleven lost Hopper.. Max lost Billy and the rest will wake up in the morning with terrible memories haunting them everyday, they can no longer feel the assurance that they're safe in the quiet town they grew up to. They knew everything that lies withing the depths of this ground, all the horrible things that Hawkin Labs brought.. Chief Hopper and Billy Hargrove died for them, they were heroes.. And the sad part is, no one will ever know.. Those who deserves to be recognized is no longer here, the heroine act they did save the world yet the world doesn't even know about them.. But Y/N and the rest knows that the sacrifices they made won't go to waste, they'll do everything in their power to keep whatever haunts this eerie town at bay.

I found this highly nice but cringey at the same time so bear with it, I also wanted to update my series about James Potter but I just can't seem to end it ughhhhh..Anyways, I hope you guys like this one..

By commenting, or reblogging this post, you’ll be telling me that you’re interested in being on my tag list! You’re also welcome to DM me or send me an ask if you’re more comfortable with that :)

Please reblog this post if you would liked to be added to my tag list !

Taglist

@sydneekomspacekru

#steve harrington #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x reader #imagines #stranger things #oneshots #request

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soldier-poet-king · 2 years

Text

tagged by @catefrankie !!! thank u cate!!!! i rlly loved these questions!!!!

💕✨create the illusion of hanging out with your mutuals tag game✨💕

are you a morning person?

ABSOLUTELY NOT UNDER ANY CIRCUMSTANCES

ideal breakfast?

i am not rlly a breakfast person (see above), but i am a big fan of a late night bowl of cereal? if i gotta eat breakfast that’s not just coffee, i prefer a mediterannean style breakfast - fruits, breads, cheese, deli meats, etc - i dont go for heavy north american breakfast foods like pancakes and eggs and bacon and the like

i DO have a weakness for hashbrowns tho. we LOVE a fried potato in any form

favorite warm drink, and how do you take it?

coffeeeeeee with just a lil milk

sit in the sunshine or the shade?

the sun is my WIFE and i miss her SO MUCH

favorite baked good?

all of them, but esp bread and any sort of danish pastry thing

a song or album that makes you feel at peace?

?????????????????? my Spotify Is A Mess and it depends on my mood, but the mountain goats, ghibli soundtracks, and folklore are go-to comforts, depending on what i need comforting about

take a walk with your friends or read a book next to a friend on the sofa?

read a book on the sofa,... i am all about domestic coziness and doing things on your own, but together

what tasks do you gravitate to when making a meal with others?

i MUST be large and in charge and giving directions and lowkey doing everything myself - largely bc none of my friends are really big at cooking so im the default person to take initiative, but if it’s more lowkey, i’ll just chop veggies or do whatever no one else wants to do

a chore that if someone completed it for you you’d love them forever?

pls wash my dishes i love to cook but dirty dishes are actually the worst thing in the world

favorite board/card game to play with friends?

i am a big board game person so all of them, but frequent faves are cataan, scrabble, and scategories , and any kind of rpg

what kind of snacks/candy do you want at a movie theater?

i used to love chewy candies like sour patch kids but now Im Old and they Hurt My Teeth and Stomach, so popcorn? but also now that makes my tmj worse. so like....nothing ig?

bar with live music or bar with a pool table?

live music!

go-to wine/cider/beer/cocktail?

red wines, or any type of ciders, beer is Nasty and Im Not Sorry For Saying It, and cocktails are always so pricey - brunch is for mimosas tho, and i’ll never say no to a strong long island

go-to bar food?

fries!!! poutine!!! mozzarella sticks!!! i need cheesy carbs

are you tending the fire, looking at the stars, or singing campfire/folk songs?

looking at the stars/tending fire

a favorite Scripture verse or prayer?

hmmm. i dont think i have one? if only bc my whole relationship with religion for a long time has been awful and antagonistic, and i have the evil brain disease where i think all the bad scary condemnatory parts of scripture apply to me and all the good comforting parts apply to everyone EXCEPT me

that being said

Elijah begging God to kill him is A Mood, I love John’s gospel bc i love John but also it’s weird and abstract and has The Vibes i like, John 13:25 is THE ultimate fave

John 11:35 is Also Good bc like Jesus Wept. full stop. gotta bring it up in my thesis 500 billion times and also anytime anyone tries to pull the ‘emotions are bad you have to be perfect, materiality is bad, everything earlthly is bad, think only of the next life, the world is a ship, etc etc etc’ shit on me. neo manichaeanism? among my contemporary christians? it’s more likely than u think. ....joking aside some modern christians are basically Like That tho and i hate it and will throw hands over it

most days tho, it’s just me and julian of norwich against the world. ALL SHALL BE WELL i scream

are you the person begging to go to just one more bar/sing one more song, the person staying up late talking about love and the universe, or the person who fell asleep hours before anyone else?

i am absolutely the wine-tipsy person making wild exclamations about love and the universe and how God is Soup given even the slightest opportunity

#ANYWAY maybe that turned into a pro-materialism pro-creation rant #but i didnt write a whole ass degree on it for nothing #THESE QUESTIONS WERE EXCELLENT THO #like. food and music and also My Special Rant Topic

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littlestarofthewest · 3 years

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*chants softly* Do it - write that modern AU uno fic that the fandom doesn't realise that they desperately need 👿😏😘

Remember this? This came up between Christmas and New Year’s 2019 xD And now I finally did it.

Pairing: Arthur x gn reader | Words: 2325 | Rating: mildly nsft | Tags: strip Uno (yes, you’re reading this right), modern AU

The party is in full swing around you, but you have no desire to join in. It's been a while since a new year made you hopeful, and all the happiness and well wishes for another promising year sound forced and wrong in your ears.

It's too loud, and it smells like alcohol and too many people in a small space. You can barely breathe, so you head along the corridor to the rooms that are off-limits to the other guests. You don't feel like crashing in John's and Abigail's bedroom, so you take the next room that's part office, part storage room. In the past, you sometimes crashed here for the night.

You close the door behind you with a sigh and are about to head for the couch, but then you spot someone sitting in front of it on the ground. He's hunched over a little and looks up when you stop dead in your tracks.

"Oh, sorry, I didn't know somebody was in here."

"It's alright," the guy says, offering you a kind smile.

A little lamp next to the sofa throws a soft shadow on his face, and you recognize the beard and nice features. You've seen him many times in photos around the apartment.

"You're Arthur, right?" you ask. "John's friend slash brother?"

Arthur chuckles. "Yeah, I guess you could call me that."

"I'm Y/N, Abigail's friend."

Recognition shows in Arthur's face, and he nods. "Friend slash soul mate slash the only person who understands Abigail whenever John acts like … well, John."

"So you have heard of me."

"A little, here and there," Arthur says, "mostly good."

"Mostly?"

Arthur grins a little one-sided, and something warm rises up in your stomach. You always thought that Arthur was handsome based on the pictures. It's way worse in person.

"I didn't mean to crush your party-" you start, but Arthur interrupts you.

"It's alright. I understand the urge for some peace and quiet. Please stay."

"Thanks." You move closer and sit down on the ground, putting your first and only drink down on the table next to the lamp. "What you got there?"

"Uno cards, if you believe it," Arthur says, and you both look at each other and speak at the same time. "John."

Arthur laughs, and you take a sip from your drink, enjoying the view. You definitely prefer Arthur's company to all the fake happy people outside.

"You gonna shuffle those all night, or are you ready to lose?" you ask.

"Lose?" Arthur measures you with a raised brow. "Around here, nobody takes me on."

You wave your fingers at him. "Come on then. Deal."

Arthur shuffles the cards for real now before setting up the first game, and you try to figure out if you've ever had a stranger New Year's Eve. Sitting in a friend's apartment playing Uno with a stranger is not a plan you would have made.

About two minutes later, Arthur puts his last card on the pile. "See?" he teases, but you just shrug.

"Beginner's luck."

You go back and forth with dealing the cards, and although Arthur wins the first three games, you soon catch up, making you both even again.

"So, why are you in here?" you ask, sorting your cards.

"I only came because John and Abigail wanted to set me up, but she didn't show," Arthur says with a shrug. "Didn't feel like partying after that."

"That sucks. Did her plans change?"

"More her perspective, I guess," Arthur says, something defeated in his voice. "Saw my profile picture, and suddenly she changed her mind."

"Nah, that can't be it."

"Why not?"

"Because you're gorgeous."

"I- What?" Arthur stumbles.

"I'm telling you that you're a very attractive man," you say while watching your cards. "And Uno, by the way."

"Oh, well, thank you, I guess," Arthur says. He puts another card on the pile, his cheeks now sporting a red tinge. "You're very nice."

"Just honest. And I win."

You grin at Arthur as he collects the cards to shuffle again. "You really are a worthy foe. We should make this more interesting."

"What, like strip poker?" you joke and Arthur laughs.

"We only have Uno cards." He's about to deal, but then he looks at you with a mischievous spark in his eyes. "Although it doesn't make much difference, really."

You look at each other and there's a sudden tension as if both of you wait for the other to chicken out or laugh. You wish you could, but the idea of getting Arthur naked is too tempting, even if you might lose some of your clothes yourself.

"We should probably lock the door," you say as casually as you can.

"Yeah, that's a good idea."

You get up to lock the door, and when you come back, Arthur deals, both of you acting as if nothing changed, but you feel a constant wave of heat running up and down your body. Before, you didn't really care much for your cards, but now every move counts.

Arthur's the first one to win, but the second he puts down the card, he looks like he'd rather take it back. "Look, you don't have to-"

You interrupt him by taking off one of your shoes. "You're just worried you're going to lose."

"Fine, you're asking for it."

Arthur wins again, getting your second shoe, followed by you winning for the first time. Like you, Arthur loses his shoes first, and then you agree to count both socks as one item. That's how Arthur ends up shirtless pretty soon after. You tell yourself that a naked torso is really nothing special, but for some reason, you play your worst round.

"You seem to have a hard time concentrating," Arthur teases, and you hate that he actually noticed.

"Shut up," you grunt, focusing on the cards. Still, you can't help but peek at Arthur once in a while.

"How did you end up here then tonight?" Arthur asks.

"My ex is back in town and hung around in front of my apartment, so Abigail suggested I hang out here."

"Something to be concerned about?" Arthur asks, his voice making clear how he thinks about a stalker-y ex.

"It's not that bad, really. They're not dangerous or anything, just annoying," you explain. "It's probably just a desperate 'alone on New Year's Eve' thing. Like I'd do that again."

You roll your eyes, and Arthur chuckles. "One of those, huh? Just gotta wait them out then. And this is your shirt gone."

He puts down his last card, and you get to your feet. "I'll go with the pants first if you don't mind. I'm hot anyway."

"Suit yourself," Arthur says nonchalantly, but you can feel his eyes on you as you slide the fabric down your legs.

Arthur looks away again when you sit, but your skin still prickles, and you wonder how much more of this you can take. Playing freaking Uno shouldn't be this hot.

Lucky for you, you get a good hand, and despite your lack of concentration, Arthur's the one who has to get rid of his pants next. You try your best not to stare at his junk but fail miserably. Suddenly you're very concerned about what could happen next. Arthur must think the same.

"Glad we locked the door," Arthur grunts, "I don't need strangers looking at my junk."

"I'm a stranger, too, aren't I?"

"You called me gorgeous; you can do whatever you want," Arthur says.

You know he's joking, but that doesn't stop your brain from imagining things you could do to or with him. That very pleasing but also distracting train of thought loses you your shirt in the next round. Still, Arthur's the one who has to get rid of his underwear first.

This time, you have the decency to look away until he sits down again, and the red on Arthur's cheeks is back.

"So, what now?" he asks. "Can't exactly take off more if I lose."

After what you just thought about, your brain seems to have lost all sensible ideas, and you blurt out the first thing on your mind. "Truth or dare."

Arthur chuckles. "Really? And next up is 'spin the bottle?'"

"Hey, we're playing strip Uno," you huff, "you really want to get judgemental on me now?"

"Alright, alright, 'truth or dare' it is. Just deal."

You deal the cards with butterflies taking flight in your stomach. You don't even know what to ask or dare Arthur, but the alternative is to get naked yourself. Either way, you're in trouble.

The round goes on and on, both of you putting on more cards rather than losing them, but then the game turns in Arthur's favor until he forgets to say Uno. You have better luck then, finally winning the round.

This time, it's you who tries to offer a way out. "Look, you don't have-"

"No, no, that's what we agreed on," Arthur says, waving his fingers at you. "Come on, ask."

"Alright, truth, or dare?"

Arthur studies you for a moment, his gaze so intense that a cold shiver runs down your spine. "Dare."

All kinds of stupid things run through your mind, but you don't want to make Arthur look foolish, especially in front of anybody else. You want to keep him all to yourself.

"I dare you not to move, no matter what."

Arthur raises his eyebrows in surprise but stays deliberately still. You take all your courage and crawl over to him, scattering the cards without a second thought.

When you reach Arthur, you run your cheek along his one like a cat before placing soft kisses along his neck. You hear him take in a sharp breath, but he doesn't move.

You look up to him, and he keeps still as you move closer, your lips hovering so close to his that you can feel his breath. It takes all your willpower not to kiss him, but you're still playing after all.

"Your turn," you say, looking right into Arthur's eyes. They're a nice shade of blue but with an almost golden circle in the middle.

"Truth or dare?" Arthur asks.

"Dare," you say way too fast.

Arthur's lip twitches into a smile, but he still doesn't move. "I dare you to come closer."

You crawl into Arthur's lap, very aware of the fact that only a tiny piece of fabric keeps you apart. With your arms around Arthur's neck, you make yourself comfortable, but your faces are still inches apart.

"Truth or dare?" you ask.

"The truth is that I didn't say Uno on purpose," Arthur says. You believe him, which means that he wanted for this little game to start.

"Trickery," you say, running your fingers through his hair, "how very naughty of you. I think that entitles me to dare you again."

"Sounds fair."

You move even closer, your fingers teasing Arthur's neck. "I dare you to touch me."

Arthur places his hands on your knees before running them up to your thighs. You get goosebumps all over your skin and can't help that you fidget a little. The friction takes its toll on Arthur. You can feel him pressing up against you while he runs his hands up along your body.

"Truth or dare?" he asks, his fingers dancing over your back.

"Truth. I want you to kiss me."

Arthur caresses your shoulders while he looks at you, his fingers climbing your neck in slow motion. The touch makes you shiver, but you stay right where you are, letting Arthur cup your face with his hands. Only when there's a barely-there pull, you move, finally closing the gap between you and Arthur.

You can't remember the last time someone kissed you this gently, and you melt against Arthur, promising yourself to stay in his lap for as long as you possibly can.

Arthur deepens the kiss, the taste, and warmth of him making you forget where you are until there's a harsh knock on the door.

"Hey, Y/N? You in there? It's me."

You feel like being doused with ice water, and your fingers dig harshly into Arthur's shoulders.

"Who's that?" he whispers, worry in his expression.

"My ex," you whisper back.

"Come on, let's talk," comes the voice from outside.

Arthur raises his eyebrows in question, and you immediately shake your head, so he tilts his head to face the door. "Do you mind? We're trying to hook up in here."

There's silence, and you bite your lip so you won't laugh. Sadly, your ex doesn't give up that easily. "Who is this?"

"It's Arthur; you might want to remember that name the next time you skulk around somebody's apartment."

It's silent again, then your ex clears their throat. "Just call me, okay? We can talk about this?"

You look at Arthur, slightly shaking your head, so you both stay quiet until you're sure your ex is gone. Arthur leans back with a sigh, resting his head against the couch. "That was not a turn on."

"I'm sorry," you say, running your fingers over his beard. "Like I said - annoying."

Arthur watches the ceiling for a bit before he takes your hands, threading your fingers together. "You know, I have an apartment, too. No exes hanging around that one."

You laugh. "Getting me naked here doesn't mean you can get me naked over there."

"I just borrow these cards, and we'll see what happens."

He kisses you again, and you have to admit to yourself that you'd rip your clothes off in an instant if he asked you to. You still act like you need to be persuaded. "Fine, you may take me there and try again. You might lose, though."

Arthur smiles. "I'll take that risk."

Getting dressed has never been such a thrill for you. Maybe the new year wasn't so bad after all.

#arthur morgan x reader #rdr2 fanfic #my writing #rdr2 modern au #fulfilled requests #fangirl-ramblings

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florrickandassociates · 3 years

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TGF Thoughts: 5x02-- Once there was a court...

Season five is off to a great start. I’m feeling more energized about TGF than I have in ages, maybe since the beginning of season three. After the mostly standalone premiere, I wasn’t sure what to expect from the rest of the season. Episode two introduced a lot of new elements that I’m intrigued by and excited about, so here’s hoping the rest of the season can sustain that energy. (Many) more thoughts under the cut.

And, again, since the most consistent thing about Tumblr is its inability to roll out new features that are actually helpful, here is a link to view the post so you don’t have to read it all on your dash. (Omg, Tumblr, not only do you force people to keep reading on their dashes but you also jump down to the middle of the post when the full version opens? Do you have ANYONE beta test these features?)

Reddick/Lockhart is bustling when the episode opens. The fact they’re calling it Reddick/Lockhart seems like an indication that Liz chose to partner with Diane—it's not. The firm just needs a name, and it can’t have Boseman in it. (The signage still says RBL... for now.)

Everyone in reception is talking animatedly, except for Carmen Moyo, who’s just taking it all in. You might be tempted to read her as nervous. You would be very, very wrong. But we don’t know that now. Right now, it wouldn’t be wrong to assume she’s Maia 2.0. This scene strongly parallels Maia’s first day at the firm (opening with the reception saying “Good morning” and the firm name, then showing new associates waiting for an orientation by David Lee). And in that scene, Maia is absolutely nervous, like you’d expect a new hire might be.

Carmen focuses on another associate’s hand. I assume this is meant to be a parallel to how Maia fidgets with her rosary ring in that initial scene. Carmen then peels a price tag off her portfolio—possibly another Maia parallel, since the portfolio Diane gives Maia is such an important symbol in Maia’s arc.

I also see shades of Alicia and her first scene here—Alicia's silent and focuses on small details (the thread on Peter’s jacket) too.

I don’t say any of this in hopes of comparing Carmen directly to either of those characters. Carmen is not like any other character this show has had before. But these parallels are quite good at establishing character, building intrigue, and showing contrast (even if you don’t see them as parallels, we’re still getting a lot about Carmen just from watching her reactions, even if we don’t yet have the context to understand how to read Carmen). Since I’m now thinking about Maia and Alicia, I’m also now thinking about how Carmen is different from them and triangulating her spot in this universe—that's a good thing. She’s not a copy of either character, but I understand a little more about what the writers are telling me about her from the parallels.

The RBL sign in the background is being taken off the wall. It falls and adds even more chaos to reception.

David Lee walks in and screams, “Stand up! Those seats are for clients.” This is the exact same language he uses in the 1x01 scene; this is definitely an intentional parallel.

Btw Carmen already has more personality than Maia and she’s been in one episode so far! I didn’t hate 1x01 Maia, but I will say that nearly everything that intrigued me about early Maia was that I could project more about Alicia (whom I, obviously, care a lot about) onto her. I can and will compare Carmen to Alicia, but when I do, it won’t be because Carmen is an interesting lens through which to analyze Alicia... it will be because Alicia is interesting precedent to use to understand Carmen.

I still hate Maia, yep.

David Lee accidentally instructs a client to stand and then has to save face, heh.

In David’s tour of the office, we see the partners squabbling. Sounds about right. And STR Laurie is still a thing, which explains why David is there (though not why he is giving a tour).

Throughout the tour, we get a lot of shots of Carmen. Again, she’s silent and looks like she could be nervous. (Spoiler: this is a fakeout and when you rewatch this scene, you can see what new cast member Charmaine Bingwa is doing here—expertly putting on a face that looks like anxiety in one context, but is actually just Carmen calmly sizing things up.)

Marissa eagerly joins the tour. “That’s right. They’re letting you play lawyer, Marissa. How nice,” David says. Carmen takes this in, too. “Fucking prick,” Marissa mutters. Carmen hears.

David Lee introduces “someone from HR” which is a great sign that HR is very effective at this firm.

In the conference room, the partners are still arguing about who should replace Adrian. Diane tries the “all options are open to us and we plan to decide in the next 48 hours” strategy, but this audience is too smart for that. Madeline asks about the new leadership structure. (I am kind of hoping that one nice side effect of having to kind of shoot the season in a COVID bubble will be that we’ll get more small recurring characters. Madeline’s been around for a little while but we’re already seeing her get to do more this year.)

“Diane and I are going to run the firm together. For now,” Liz says. Oh, no, Liz, do not open the door to change. Letting the partners know you’re not sure is probably the worst strategy. You’ve gotta decide or they’ll sense weakness.

“Just the two of you? A black firm being run by a white woman?” a partner asks. “Well, I’m not running it alone. I’m here to assist Liz,” Diane says, trying to deflect. “Really? Because she needs assistance?” he counters. Diane doesn’t know what to say, but she and Liz both know these questions aren’t going to go away.

HR is running an orientation for the new hires and it involves having them all take pieces of toilet paper. Man, I hate ice breakers. Carmen takes a moderate amount and then passes it to Marissa, who takes only one square. Carmen notes this and makes eye contact with Marissa. And this is where it starts to become obvious that Carmen is not nervous—just observant and not chatty. Carmen knows Marissa is one to watch from how David reacted to her presence. She gives Marissa a look that’s meant to be noticed and start a conversation. It works, and Marissa explains that for each square you take, you have to share a fact about yourself. Carmen hates this and hides the rest of the toilet paper so she only has one square.

Liz tries to say there will be a discussion about the partnership, and Daniel (that’s what the captions call him, though they do reference him as “Barry” at one point but I'm like 99% sure I know which actor is Barry and it’s not him) says it feels like they’re just being told what the new state of things is. Liz says she hears him but right now they need a senior associate to backfill Lucca.

Daniel doesn’t think they need one. I don’t get why, unless it has to do with the budget cuts.

“We need someone with real experience to take on her caseload,” Liz notes. Hell yeah you do!

Liz asks if any of the partners want to take over family law. None do.

After the meeting, Liz asks Diane if she can call a head hunter. Diane approves. David Lee pops up to ask which one of them is taking Boseman’s office and they haven’t discussed it yet. I love that they managed to order a sign with their names on it before they’ve talked about how being partners will actually work.

(Also, Adrian’s office is quite obviously going to end up with Liz. And it would be weird if it were Diane, anyway, because it’s Diane’s old office from Lockhart/Gardner and it would look it if she sat there again lol)

David notes that an empty corner office looks like failure. He is correct. He gives them until Friday to decide.

Marissa does not like the ice breaker at all and pointedly notes she only has one secret, and it is that she used to be married to a mime. She makes a whole bit out of it and then whispers to Carmen, “I usually just make things up.”

Carmen’s next and she finally gets to speak her first words of the series. You know who else didn’t speak at all in her first scene? Alicia Florrick. Very different scenes, but I can’t help but think this is intentional. From what I’ve seen of Carmen, both she and Alicia use silence strategically and are comfortable with quiet. Alicia’s first scene is silent because she doesn’t need to use words to be expressive, but it does establish that she’s going to be a character with a lot of internal thoughts she won’t vocalize and that she’s observant and tries to maintain composure. Sure, you can watch the first scene of Pilot and just see a woman who’s stunned into silence, but when you watch it knowing Alicia and realize how much of the essential parts of her character are in her totally silent intro sequence that kicks off the show... it’s kind of amazing.

So comparing Carmen’s introduction to that? I mean this as a huge compliment. Carmen deploys silence for reasons both similar and different to Alicia. While Alicia uses silence to maintain some kind of boundary between her inner thoughts and the outside world, Carmen uses it to get a chance to observe and take things in without showing her cards. (We do see Alicia do that as well, especially at work, but I would call this a side-effect of Alicia being a quiet person rather than her intention; Carmen seems to be more conscious of how she uses her silence.)

Carmen is from Victorville, California. That means nothing to me but I’m sure there’s some significance. Carmen mimics Marissa’s response when asked for her secrets—she also responds with, “secret,” emphasizing she only has one. But what she says next also shows her in contrast to Marissa. She says her secret is she hates games. We already know so much about her and she’s said like ten words!

I think it’s smart to set Carmen up as a contrast to other characters. I know who Carmen is not because of how she differs from more familiar presences like Alicia, Maia, and Marissa. Marissa hates ice breakers, but her reaction to them is to use them as an opportunity to say something funny and over the top. Many others (including probably both Alicia and Maia) would likely resent the activity but play along and say something unremarkable (I could see Alicia overthinking it and sharing something surprisingly quirky though!). Carmen just does not give a fuck, and in a different way than Marissa doesn’t give a fuck. Marissa insinuates that she thinks the whole activity is stupid... Carmen just flat out says it. I would not pull this move on my first day of a new job! And that is the point—who is this person who is so self-assured she’s willing to insult HR on her very first day of her very first job as a lawyer?

ALL OF THIS FROM A FEW WORDS AND SOME WELL-ACTED GLANCES! As I said, I’m very intrigued by Carmen. I have some questions about the logistics of this plot, her endgame, and how she’ll function when brought into the firm drama/debate plots, but for now, I only have good things to say.

Liz interrupts the ice breaker to announce that everyone will be assigned a mentor. She then pauses to greet Marissa, which Carmen, again, notices. Liz is really there to say that they’ll be working on client maintenance that day, and each new hire will get to help with one of their clients. When she reads off their top clients, all the hands shoot up—except Carmen’s.

Madeline’s last name is Gilford. Noted. John’s last name is Wilson.

No one raises their hand to assist with Oscar Rivi, who is in a maximum-security prison. Carmen confidently raises her hand.

Barry’s last name is Poe. Noted.

Marissa and Carmen exchange glances. Super curious to see how this evolves. There are too many Marissa/Carmen exchanges in this episode for the writers to not plan to have them interact more in the future.

I’m kind of loving that it seems like the show’s leads are now Diane, Liz, Marissa, and Carmen. Diane’s obviously great, Liz is someone who’s been deserving of leading material for ages, Carmen seems interesting, and I’m so impressed they have managed to make Marissa, usually good in small doses, into a character who can handle larger plots without wearing on my patience (like that awful Elsbeth centric episode of Wife).

Diane has a client who received a summons directly, which Diane finds strange. But, since she is already working with this client on the same case (teaching kids during COVID) in another court, Diane is optimistic about this second suit. She thinks it could set a good precedent.

Diane introduces Phoebe, an associate who will help out on the case. Diane says she’s not personally going because it’s a formality and Diane needs to work on the brief. I’m like 99% sure Diane isn’t personally going because Diane’s role here is to convince the client she’s getting senior-level attention while having junior people do the work, but nice story!

Diane asks Marissa to go along with Phoebe. Marissa thinks she’s going to get to argue in court... Diane says no, Marissa gets to hand hold a client.

Oscar Rivi is basically Lemond Bishop, which is the only explanation I have for why RL would represent him. And, you’ll recall, I didn’t understand why RL would represent Bishop either. But we’ll just have to go with it.

(I think representing multiple drug lords is probably a bigger PR issue for RL than having a white partner! How come no one ever talks about this! Actually, new complaint: wasn’t Liz, who now has more power than before, the one who was most against representing Bishop?)

(I guess it may make sense that she’d be more okay with this Rivi dude than Bishop. Whatever Rivi’s done, I don’t think he’s threatened Liz’s kid like Bishop did!)

(Also, I’m fine with them switching it up and suddenly having this new drug kingpin. Mike Colter is obviously unavailable since he’s a lead on Evil, and I was tired of Bishop anyway. If the writers stop using Bishop and Sweeney as shorthands for corruption I will be very happy; I don’t think there’s much more mileage left there. Speaking of, Dylan Baker popped up in 2x02 of Evil!)

“I don’t want you to be intimidated,” Barry tells Carmen as they arrive at Rivi’s prison. Carmen reads articles about Rivi on her phone, saying she’s taking notes. Barry tells Carmen to “sit, listen, leave.” But then he discovers his ID is expired (he didn’t get it renewed during the pandemic) and he can’t go visit Rivi as a result. Carmen says she’s fine alone—she'll sit, listen, leave. She’s calm and not at all cocky as she says it, and it really takes until she’s actually talking with Rivi to realize that she’s not (just?) a hypercompetent law school grad trying to impress. She doesn’t seem to care at all what people, no matter how powerful, think of her, as long as she’s able to find security of any sort. (Tbh, it is kind of amazing she doesn’t get fired in this episode.)

(I’m getting ahead of myself but in Alicia’s first ep, she also changes up strategies on the partners. Alicia does it almost without realizing she’s gone against their wishes—she's just sure of the right strategy—and Carmen does it much more intentionally.)

Marissa and Phoebe can’t locate Judge Wackner’s court. Marissa asks a security guard she’s friendly with (of course she is) for help. He says there’s no Judge Wackner there, and the security guard notices that it’s a summon for a “9 ¾ Circuit.” The guard laughs at the Harry Potter reference; Marissa is not amused. They leave the courthouse when Marissa spots a sign for “9 ¾". She follows the sighs down an alley. Phoebe wants nothing to do with this; Marissa and the client are intrigued. They end up in a store called Copy Coop and are directed to a warehouse.

In the warehouse, an argument is resolved through Rock, Paper, Scissors. Then it’s Marissa’s turn. She asks for a continuance just like she was supposed to, but she uses the wrong phrasing. Judge Wackner notices. That’s when Marissa notes she’s not a lawyer, and Wackner responds that he’s not a licensed judge. So it’s fine that Marissa isn’t a lawyer.

Marissa tries to protest again that she’s not a lawyer, and Wackner basically tells her to proceed anyway. The client wants to stay, weird as this fake court seems.

Carmen reads with Rivi. She stares at him, getting him to speak first. His translator asks if there’s another lawyer with her; she just introduces herself. The translator does a terrible job of translating Rivi’s complaints, sharing very little of what Rivi said with Carmen.

Unsurprisingly (to me at least, because scenes like this ALWAYS have the twist where a character doesn’t let on that they speak the language until the exact right moment), Carmen speaks Spanish.

She lets Rivi know she speaks Spanish AND insults the translator in one go. Pretty big move. That gets Rivi’s attention and he kicks out the translator. He asks who she is and she repeats her name again (characters reacting like this will never not remind me of “Who are you?” “Kalinda.”).

Carmen notes that she’s just out of law school, explaining that’s why she’s eager to help. She doesn’t reveal that by mistake—she's using it to her advantage.

Credits! As I predicted, things are blowing up again this week like normal. No more kittens and puppies. There’s a new couch that blows up in the credits. Wackner’s desk also makes it in. I can’t remember if the purses were in this position before; they might be new. All the exploding TVs show footage of January 6th (which I hear is going to be a major theme of the season, though it’s not heavily featured in this episode). And the zoomed in shot of the closet (that I’ve never really liked) is gone, as is the falling curtain!

I still hate the font of the logo for this show. I also don’t understand why the show seems to have three logos—the one that’s the TGW logo but with “fight”, the one in the credits, and whatever the one they’ve come up with for this season’s marketing materials is. I like that they’re trying with the marketing of this season but I don’t get why the show has three logos.

While I’m talking about the marketing, can we just talk about the “Goodbye Lucca” graphic the official social media account posted? It had a fucking crown drawn over her head like this is a 2013 Tumblr shitpost!!! Who are they targeting with this?! WHO ARE THEY MARKETING TO? DOES THIS WORK ON ANYONE??? It literally says, “Chi-Town” on it. I cringed so hard. Sometimes I feel like the marketing of this show is meant to cater to the people who would, like, watch the credits of last week’s episode and be like, “Yes! It IS all now puppies and kittens! Everything bad in the world has been resolved!”

But hey, at least it’s better than the absolute trash they used to post for TGW. Remember when there’d be episodes about Alicia making career moves and they’d be like, “#TeamPeter or #TeamWill????”

OR, OR OR OR, the fucking time they tried to crosspromote TGW and the Victoria’s Secret Fashion show (yes) with a tweet that read, “All ‘Saint Alicia’ needs is a pair of wings&she practically turns into an Angel.” I... have no words.

Hey, Caleb is back! I was not expecting them to actually wrap up his arc with Liz. I think I’m actually pretty thankful it’s ending like this—he comes back for what I assume is one last episode and I don’t actually have to deal with the Liz/Caleb plot. Apparently the writers were setting that up so they could do some plots about power dynamics and interracial couples and who is seen as having power. Caleb and Liz were going to have an encounter with the police, who were going to listen to Caleb instead of Liz even though this encounter would’ve taken place in Liz’s house and Liz is the name partner and Caleb the employee. Interesting enough, but anything boss/employee just squicks me out and I don’t need it around and Liz deserves better.

But I did like Caleb as a character, so I’m glad he gets an exit, unlike past characters who have just disappeared. (Remember Robyn Burdine? Or that time Taye Diggs was a major character for two seconds?)

Liz was NOT expecting to see Caleb as a candidate for Lucca’s old role. Things are instantly awkward. I guess Caleb left STR Laurie?

Diane immediately senses that things are awkward with Liz and Caleb. Caleb is very professional throughout all this. Diane gets an important call and leaves the room, so Caleb and Liz can chat privately.

Caleb says he thought Liz was reaching out; Liz says she should’ve reached out but things ended abruptly. Love that Caleb checks that no one else is in the room with Liz before getting even more personal. He says they should just act like nothing ever happened between them and Liz asks if he can do that. “I’m the employee. Of course I can,” he says. This is why you don’t sleep with employees.

He says he really does want the job and he liked the firm. Liz says she’ll talk to Diane. Caleb says if it doesn’t work out he’ll be fine.

Phoebe tells Diane about 9 ¾ and Diane does not understand... at all. “If it has no power, and it doesn’t have jurisdiction, what does it have?” Diane wonders.

A little more on the case: RL is representing a woman who taught a small group of students during the pandemic, and some parents are suing her for preaching socialism at the children.

The woman suing did NOT like being called a Karen by her daughter or being compared to the family from Parasite. She wants a refund.

Marissa objects and makes up her own grounds, realizing that since it’s not a real court, she can object for any reasons she wants—as long as they follow common sense.

These scenes could so easily feel ridiculous, like a gag that goes on for too long. They do not. There’s just enough zany humor and theatrics to make the 9 ¾ court feel surreal. And, most helpfully, Wackner is a GREAT judge. He is engaged with the work and only concerned with the facts and arguments rather than politics. He’s tough but fair. He’s direct and he maintains control over his court. He’d be one of the best judges in a normal court. His sincerity is enough to make you wonder why courts DON’T operate like this. It’s easy to see why the characters are sold on this BS-free, rational, and effective system, even if it makes no sense that it would exist and it has no power. It’s simultaneously idealistic (if only things were resolved fairly) and threatening (how can something like this exist?! What does it mean that the real courts are so ineffective that there’s a need for something like this?! What happens if this goes beyond what are basically mediations for simple issues?).

This type of thought experiment is where TGF excels. I think they were going for something like this with Memo 618 (which hasn’t gone away!), but that arc always felt like it was on the verge of going off the rails. Mandy Patinkin’s performance and the writing for the 9 ¾ court already have me more invested in this than I was in Memo 618.

Marissa tries yet again to wait for help to arrive, but Wackner insists that they keep things moving. She tries to stall and ends up referencing George Clooney. Wackner cuts through that, too—he hates speeches “unless I'm giving them, and even then I’m just trying to stall.” Then he holds up a sign that reads, “CUT THE SHIT” and the audience laughs. He says this isn’t the kind of court where you can just run out the clock. Kind of ridiculous that real court IS that kind of court, no? (And that’s why this is an effective device so far.) (I say so far because I have watched content from these writers for long enough to know that things that work in small doses or initially can go wildly off the rails.)

Marissa changes strategies and does what she does best: she goes on instinct and adjusts her strategy as she goes. She eventually catches the woman accusing her client of teaching socialism in a lie about Parasite. It’s very Legally Blonde and very smart of Marissa. And I’m rather proud of myself for seeing what Marissa was doing (getting the woman to commit to a time frame and then baiting her to talk about a moment that proved the time frame fake) before she revealed what she was doing.

Sarah Steele is so good in this scene. I love her smile when she realizes the woman took the bait, and that she reacts with “AHA!” instead of something more proper. This is pretty much the perfect court for Marissa.

Diane and Jay arrive; are confused.

Carmen leaves Rivi after quite a bit of time has passed, making Barry nervous. Carmen tells him very little and repeats that she sat, listened, and left. She told the translator to go fuck himself (almost in those words) so she’s gotta know that Barry will hear what happened from someone. She does not care. She lies to Barry like it’s nothing.

Diane does not understand the 9 ¾ court, nor does she understand why a non-lawyer like Marissa is arguing. She does not understand why losing in this venue would matter or why a lawyer she knows (ha, I looked him up to see if he’d been on Wife or Fight before, and he has... as a totally different character!) is there.

“Okay, I’m losing my mind. Look, this is not legal. We have got to get out of here,” Diane says. Toni, the client, wants to stay.

I don’t actually know the answer to this—would there be repercussions to someone who is a member of the bar participating in something like this? Everyone knows it’s not real or binding, so nothing is being misrepresented, but this FEELS illegal?

Toni notes that a lot of people suing her are there watching, so walking out or losing would look bad. She also likes Judge Wackner because he is “better than the judges in real court.”

“Diane, what is real?” the client asks when Diane points out again that this court is fake. The client’s spent 8 months on this case in limbo, so this feels like reality to her. Fair point.

Diane chats with the other lawyer and asks what he’s doing here. He says he’s getting paid—with business down and court dockets backlogged (how much would that affect a large firm that settles most cases out of court? I’m actually curious about this), it’s a good source of money.

Diane realizes it’s basically arbitration. Then says she doesn’t understand anything anymore. The other lawyer replies, “Sure you do. That’s why this is throwing you. Welcome to 2021.” Yup.

Diane goes with it. A former teacher is on the stand. He’s got a grudge and wants money, so he’s helping out. He tries to say something that is the most obvious hearsay ever... and Wackner has no problem with it. Marissa likes that.

Wackner basically says he’s fine with hearsay because he can use his brain to figure out what’s real and what’s fake, just like we all do every day. Crosstalk is also allowed.

Wackner also doesn’t allow for bullshit breaks where lawyers tell clients what to say, because he “likes the truths found in sudden utterances.” All his rules make a lot of sense. They are all also counter to every single sneaky legal strategy these characters tend to use.

Toni made a comment that she “couldn’t fall in love with anyone who voted for Trump.” That gives a point to the plaintiff. Diane notes that this belief is shared with most of the country, and Wackner asks her if she shares it. “I’m not the question,” Diane replies, because she definitely doesn’t want to talk about her husband who worked in the Trump administration.

Wackner flat out tells Diane that Marissa should argue instead of her. “Marissa is not a lawyer,” Diane tries to say. “Well, I’m not a judge!” Wackner responds. And that’s it for the day.

Diane asks Jay for intel, and then we get one of the most effective Jay scenes in a while—he bonds with the Copy Coop security guard, who only has good things to say about Wackner. I like how the writers use COVID in this episode—they treat it like it’s recent past (fingers crossed) and reference it when it makes sense, like how the courts are backlogged, or this guard was laid off.

The security guard notes that he thinks Wackner is building something good in his spare time. He also notes that Wackner is a big Grateful Dead fan.

Carmen takes it upon herself to visit someone else in prison to help Rivi. She points out they’re under surveillance and convinces this other dude to take the fall for Rivi so he can go free. It’s very smart. I assume this is all her own strategy, as we see her look up this other dude before she’s even met with Rivi, though it’s possible Rivi came up with some of it.

There is something about Carmen’s demeanor when she deals with clients that is very Alicia-like in interesting ways. She’s very direct and unflappable in a way that people seem to take to (remember how all the creeps loved Alicia?), and she only shows emotion when she decides to. The similarities stop there. Carmen doesn’t seem remorseful or conflicted (Alicia always did). Sociopathic definitely isn’t the right word for her, but I’d be lying if I didn’t say it didn’t cross my mind. Carmen knows that her clients are bad guys. That doesn’t trouble her. And she doesn’t try to take the easy way out—she does more than she needs to. I don’t know what she’s really trying to do here, but I suspect she does.

Carmen is 28, just fyi.

Liz gets a call from Charles Lester. Obviously, Lester now works for Rivi, because Rivi is New Bishop. (Usually I’m a bit against saying any character is the new version of an old one, like how Lucca was not the new Kalinda (even if she was brought in to bring new energy to the space Kalidna occupied) or how Carmen is not the new Lucca (same), but I’m pretty comfortable saying Rivi is New Bishop. He’s not the same personality, but he... is New Bishop.)

Lester notes that Rivi only wants to meet with Carmen from now on. Liz does not understand this and she’s not thrilled with it. She notes that Carmen is a first year who has been there for two days, but she doesn’t want to lose Rivi’s business so she goes along with it. Was that Carmen’s endgame? Job security? Does she not care about the RL job and see a good opportunity to... just represent Rivi without a firm behind her? I can’t tell.

(This is where I could see this arc faltering. I get why Liz keeps Carmen on—she doesn’t want to lose the client—but I don’t really understand why Liz wants Rivi as a client. Losing Carmen who’s been there for two days and Rivi who she probably doesn’t want to represent seems like a fine outcome to me. And, beyond that, if Carmen doesn’t care about the firm and also doesn’t need them, what’s in it for her to stay? I don’t think she really cares that the firm would have more resources to use in defending Rivi. Like, why isn’t the outcome here just that Carmen teams up with Lester and leaves RL behind?)

Diane listens to the Grateful Dead and writes down lyrics she can use in court. Kurt gets home from work. Diane asks him if he thinks she should give up her name partnership since it’s a black firm. Kurt asks if she’s the best lawyer there. She says no, but she’s one of the best, and besides, it’s a bad look and she wants to do what’s right for the firm. “You and I disagree on so much. You obviously ask my opinion because you know that I will argue something you know you won’t,” Kurt says. This is a very good, and very accurate, response.

Diane keeps going, though. Kurt plays along and starts talking about identity politics. Diane starts debating back, ignoring that Kurt is not really wanting to play devil’s advocate. Kurt doesn’t give Diane an easy out and tells her she’s right—she should step aside. That’s not what she wanted to hear. Kurt laughs and then goes to take a shower.

Liz is eyeing Adrian’s office when Carmen walks up. She’s invited Carmen to talk to her. She asks her how things are going. Carmen just wants to know if she did something wrong. Carmen says she likes the firm and it’s great to be out of the legal clinics.

Liz shares the news that Rivi only wants Carmen going forward. Carmen is pleased and says that’s surprising... though she looks more pleased than surprised.

Liz suggests maintaining a professional distance, to which Carmen replies “I’m very professional.” “Oh, I don’t doubt it,” Liz tries to backtrack. “Is the firm dissatisfied with my work?” Carmen asks bluntly. Liz says no. “It’s my intention to treat all my clients like humans. Even the ones who might be murderers, or definitely are murderers. And I think Mr. Rivi might be responding to that because it’s something that he hasn’t received at this firm previously,” Carmen notes. This is QUITE the tone to take with your boss.

One question I have—and this is mostly inspired by the recap at I think Vulture?-- is to what extent Carmen knows what she’s doing. It seems like a lot. I can’t tell how much Carmen knows vs how much Carmen THINKS she knows. She’s definitely smart, and I don’t think she is an idealist (when she says her intention is to treat her clients like humans, she means that’s her strategy), but she is young and new to the law and only out for herself, which makes her vulnerable.

Liz does not take well to Carmen’s talk and notes she’s talking about her personal safety. Carmen thanks her and says she’d understand if Liz doesn’t want her on the case.

There is something a little unnerving about Carmen. She keeps saying things that are boldly inappropriate but masked by how professional and correct her arguments sound (like the line about treating clients like humans). And she has a way of gaining power over a conversation. Liz squirms way too much in that conversation and loses some of her control as a result.

I just need to know more about her!!! The fact that I can’t understand her makes her immediately interesting.

Diane and Liz interview Julius for Lucca’s position. They all know it would be a demotion for him, but they’re seriously considering it. I feel like this would look awful for the firm and they are going to handwave it anyway after a few lines about how bad it would look.

Diane quotes the Grateful Dead in court and it works. The other lawyer tries to quote songs too... it does not work.

Carmen gets Rivi a bunch of candy bars from the court vending machine so he can have a snack he enjoys. The security guard doesn’t want to let Rivi eat them, but Carmen is right that this is permissible. The guard smashes the bars in defeat. Carmen opens one for Rivi.

It is a little distracting to see the main characters pretend that COVID is in the past when the extras have masks, but honestly, that’s kind of what life is like right now?

Carmen zones out a little in court—not sure if she just does that or if she is trying to look unfamiliar with the rules so people will go easy on her/have low expectations. I think it’s a combination of both, considering that we’ve seen her laser-focus on things elsewhere in the episode AND she tells the judge it is her first day in court.

Court stuff happens; Carmen’s strategy works.

The judge tries to give Carmen advice and a warning. Liz is also there, watching, which is good because I was shocked anyone would let Carmen do this unsupervised.

Carmen is also kind of like if you removed all of Maia’s worst traits (her selfishness, her spoiled brat attitude, her sense of entitlement) and skipped right to her willingness to partner with Blum.

Liz and Carmen talk again, this time about the reputation of the firm. Liz notes that Carmen is clearly capable and reminds her sternly that she needs to conduct herself in a manner that does not put the firm at risk and that’s the only reminder she’s going to get. Carmen twirls a pen and stares at it instead of listening to Liz. She says she’s just listening like she’s perfectly innocent. It’s the right thing to say and, again, it’s SUPER UNNERVING.

“Wow. You really don’t give a shit what people think about you, do you?” Liz says in frustration. “I’m here to do a good job for my clients,” Carmen notes. Is she??? Does she just not care who she’s representing and want to do a good job, and that’s her whole motivation?? I would find that interesting but I need more to believe it. She’s so perplexing.

(Again, I don’t really get why Liz hasn’t fired her, because if she and Carmen keep having these interactions, Liz IS going to end up ceding all of her power and looking weak. But maybe Liz is as intrigued as I am.)

Liz also tells Carmen she’s going to be her mentor. Carmen says thanks and that she respected Liz’s father. Liz does NOT take that well. Audra’s reaction—a mix of shock, irritation, and confusion—is perfect here. I think Carmen is trying to say that she respected Carl Reddick—but she has no such respect for Liz. (It could also be about the sexual harassment, but I don’t think that’s public knowledge.)

I noticed earlier that the courtroom was #305 and was wondering why they chose that number (it’s similar to Courtroom 302, the book that inspired the bond court arc, which is why 305 stuck in my mind). I see now that the Copy Coop’s address is 305. Heh.

Turns out that the woman suing Toni is someone who would break COVID protocol and be generally terrible. I’m shocked.

Wackner decides to skip closing arguments and rule. He sides with Toni.

See, this is where this kind of thing is dangerous. Wackner is great and fair. But you can’t really replicate a system like this (though I also think this system would fail if replicated on too large of a scale; the reason it works is that everyone involved is buying into it and if it were to be corrupted no one would buy into it unless forced to—and if people are forced to buy into an extrajudicial system then that’s its own problem). What if some other judge were to just decide to skip closing arguments or decide suddenly a trial was over? That could be unfair in so many different ways.

After the resolution of the case there’s clapping and even Diane is surprised at how reasonable the verdict was.

Wackner then insists that everyone shake hands because “the thing we all crave most is respect and acknowledgement.” They also have to say, “I respect and I love you.” And they do! And no one even seems that unhappy with it Marissa and Toni are super into it.

And, someone in the gallery wants to get Marissa’s number because she did such a good job. Yep, sounds about right.

Diane fills Liz in, and Liz can’t believe it. Liz wants to hire Wackner (jokingly). Then she says she wants Julius since they know and trust him. Diane’s good with that, but she also chooses this moment to playfully let on that she knows Liz slept with Caleb. We’ve seen Diane observe Liz’s reaction to Caleb/mentions of Caleb all episode, and I don’t think it’s coincidental that Diane brings this up now, and in a friendly way. Diane doesn’t need to bring it up. I don’t think Diane needs the answer. I think she just wants to throw Liz off without making it obvious that’s what she’s doing.

I really, really hate to say it, because my whole thing about this season is wanting to see Liz be a great manager, but I don’t... actually think... Liz is a great manager? She’s second-guessing herself far too much. She’s more thrown in this scene than Carmen, who has like two days of experience, is by anything she encounters. And worse, she doesn’t hide it when she’s thrown. I think Liz is very smart and capable, but this episode is a pretty good case for why she might not be able to manage alone.

I know I’ve said that I want to see Liz manage and think she’d be good at it. I still think she could be. But I’ve also tended to think that Liz is a good manager and Adrian talks down at her, and I’ve dismissed some of her less strategic ideas as the fault of the Adrian/Liz dynamic. But nothing in this episode seems out of character, so now I’m less sure. (And to be clear, Liz not being a great manager isn’t a problem with the show, it’s actually pretty interesting to me.)

(Here are some of the things Liz has done in this episode alone that she needs to stop doing to be more effective: 1) Everything about her reaction to Caleb (and the fact she slept with him-- and yes I would, and did, say this about Will too so this is not a double standard!) 2) Not having a clear plan when meeting with the partners, even though she—and not Diane—is the one who is seen as having power. 3) Not being able to hold her own nearly as well as she should be able to with Carmen. I’m curious to see how the other partners hold up, and in fairness to Liz, I may be able to make this criticism of any character who doesn’t just immediately fire Carmen.)

And, I say all of this now because Diane in this scene is SO smart and SO strategic. She mentions Caleb to disarm Liz, then casually notes that she thinks Liz should take the corner office since it’s a black firm.

Liz isn’t sure if she should thank Diane for that (it is a little patronizing) but she does anyway.

Diane has another “last thing” to say, and it’s that she wants to bring on another partner, a black one. She wants to be in the discussion and to retain a name partner position. Liz says yes, as long as she has any power over the decision. This is a very smart move for Diane. It’s a compromise that’s to her benefit, and she makes the request of Liz at exactly the right time. I think Diane likes Liz as a person and wants to work with her, but she’s definitely buttering her up. This is kind of like an audition to show Liz that she should stick with Diane—Diane will be friendly with her! Diane won’t judge (but definitely knows about!) her indiscretions. Diane is reasonable and not power-hungry! Diane is understanding!

(And again, to be clear, I don’t think Liz is falling for Diane’s trap or anything. If Diane is smart enough to plan all this out, Diane is absolutely someone you’d want to keep on as a name partner. It’s just that Diane showing how smart she is, is a pretty stark contrast to Liz getting disrespected by a first-year associate.)

(And, because I feel like I'm being quite harsh on Liz, I don’t think Liz has handled the Carmen situation badly... yet. I just see signs that Carmen is able to shift the balance of power in her favor without really trying, and that Liz is getting flustered. I think Liz mentioning the mentorship is a way of Liz asserting power, and I think/hope that now that Liz knows the situation, she will try to regain control. And, I could very easily see this same plot happening but with Diane—it's just that there are a few other plots where Liz seems flustered in this episode alone, so it feels like a pattern. I’ll be looking out for more of this.)

Marissa and Carmen, both with large folders of casework, get in an elevator together. “So. I guess it begins,” Marissa says as the episode ends. I very much want to see more of Marissa and Carmen interacting. Mostly, I just want to see what Carmen does when she’s in situations that aren’t about representing a client or defending her work. I know what type of lawyer and employee she is, but who is she as a person?

Wow, this might be the most I’ve written about characters on TGF—as opposed to plots—in quite a while. I think that’s what has me so excited about this season. Carmen is interesting as a character because she’s so unique (or, perhaps, because she feels so much like a part of this universe yet so little like any other character—that's why I keep trying to compare her to others and find out where to place her). The 9 ¾ court is interesting because Wackner is so grounded, because it challenges Diane’s sense of reality in a way that’s new and interesting (this whole series is about making reality seem like it’s shifting under your feet; this is a new take on a familiar theme), and because it is a great match for Marissa’s personality and will give her a lot of opportunities for growth. It seems like we’re heading for some interesting material with Diane and Kurt, and there’s been a little bit of a tense undercurrent in their interactions in these first two episodes—I truly can’t tell if it’s supposed to be part of their banter or if there are mounting frustrations; I think the former but could see it being the latter. And, as I’d hoped, Liz is getting a lot more material.

#tgf thoughts #the good fight

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angeltrapz · 2 years

Note

HIIIII BESTIE I SAW YR TAGS N I GOTTA. I GOTTA HEAR THE DEETS ON ALISON/JILL!!!!!!!!!! fr tho dish abt that!!! im intrigued n yr takes on SAW characters r always So Correct 💗💗

OOGH I'M SORRY IT TOOK ME SO LONG TO REPLY TO THIS BUT. OK OK OK ALISON/JILL

I wanna start by saying that this concept isn't one I've done The Most thinking for but it lives in my head rent-free so!! I am gnna try my best!!

HONESTLY I am not even sure how they'd meet. I know I said the same of Alison/Tracy/Daniel, but one route I entertain is them meeting through a Jigsaw survivor support group. If they do meet this way, I think it would only happen after John's death, because Jill would have been outed as his ex-wife to the Entire World basically, and God knows she deserves some support for everything that man put her through, both throughout their marriage and his most recent actions. I think Alison would definitely be sympathetic - she can't imagine how horrific it'd be to find out that someone she loved so dearly at one point could be capable of such terrible things, and she gets the feeling that no one's ever really offered Jill any sympathy/compassion/understanding, so she's determined to be the first, because lord knows this woman deserves it.

Like Tracy, I think Alison and Jill find that they have a lot more in common than previously thought (though obviously Lawrence is not as bad as John - at least, as far as Alison knows), and they're able to bond through their experiences + the unfortunate circumstance of having encountered such a terrible, awful person. I think, at least at first, Jill would Definitely feel bad about what John had put Alison + her family through, because regardless of how long they've been divorced, John was still her husband once. She had loved him at one point. I think it's all very difficult for Jill to comprehend/process because how do you come to terms with the fact that your ex-husband is a sadistic serial killer playing games with people's lives because he's got a nasty god complex? It's unfathomable. And I think that's where Alison comes in.

Firstly I think she'd make it clear to Jill that she doesn't blame her for what happened, because she had no idea he'd even be capable of doing something like that (or, if you want to go off of canon, that he'd continue doing it after Cecil/Amanda - it's very murky as to how much Jill knows aside from those two until John's death), and she tries to make it clear that Jill shouldn't blame herself either. Maybe it's because I feel Alison is a very compassionate person, but I don't think she'd hold that against Jill. This woman is just as much a victim of that man as she is - just with different circumstances.

Anyway! I Also think of Jill as someone who is incredibly compassionate and kindhearted, and I think Alison would admire that; after the whole "Jill Tuck Is Jigsaw's Ex-Wife" debacle, I think she'd really respect that Jill still has the strength to be kind in a world that is very much unkind to her. More than that, though, what Alison admires is Jill's passion in helping people; she works with people that society has largely turned their backs on, and no matter how she is treated in return/no matter the things people say about her, she still runs her clinic and carries on, because that is what she wants to do. All she wants to do is help people. Alison has effectively seen the worst people can be, and here is Jill in the midst of it all, still kind despite what she's been through. Still wanting to help despite the evil she's seen. That strikes a chord with Alison, because if anyone would have the right to hate people after that, it'd be Jill - but she doesn't.

I think it's a very gradual thing, their relationship. They start meeting for coffee every week, occasionally going out to get breakfast or lunch or dinner, what have you; sometimes Jill spends the night at Alison's, just talking over dinner and glasses of wine, watching unfunny TV shows that become funny because they're watching them together and ripping into them (I HC them as having very similar dry, sarcastic senses of humour with a touch of dark - after what they've been through that's not a surprise). Alison will do the same every now and then, typically when Diana is with Lawrence, and it's easy. It's good. They're both so comfortable with each other; neither of them sleep on the couch at each other's place. They share the bed, share space and stories and laughter. They kind of slip into a romantic relationship without either of them noticing until one night, they're lying in bed together, Alison's head on Jill's chest while Jill combs her fingers through her hair, and Alison realizes, oh. This is something deeper. This is love. And above her, Jill is ending up at the same conclusion, and it's just... this tremendous wave of feeling, because neither of them really expected to find that again.

So it's easy for Alison to lift her head, tilt it just a bit, and kiss Jill. It's easy for Jill to kiss back, to rest a hand on Alison's upper arm while the other tentatively works into the other woman's hair, cupping the back of her skull. It's easy when they pull apart and laugh and dive right back in, because now that they've made it over that hurdle, falling into it is easy as anything.

After that, the change is immediately apparent - they never go very long without touching each other, always kissing and smiling, very much the honeymoon phase, though they're still very much affectionate once that phase passes. By now I think Alison has introduced Diana to Jill, and after some additional time just in case, I think Alison is ready to introduce her to Diana as her girlfriend - which Diana is very happy about! I just think she'd want her mom to be happy, even if it wouldn't be with Lawrence, and I think she'd be 100% supportive of the two of them. For Jill that means the world to her, partially because she's obviously already fond of Diana, but also because... she never got to know Gideon. She doesn't view Diana as a replacement or anything like that, no one can replace her baby boy, but it does heal something deep down inside Jill a little bit to have this little girl be so fond of her/accept her as her mother's partner. It's good all around.

I do have to say that, upon watching the tape John had left for her, if Jill decided to accept the task he'd given her (testing Hoffman), then that would definitely create problems. I mentioned this in regards to Logan/David and also Lawrence/Adam, but I don't think Alison would take too kindly to Jill fulfilling Any of John's wishes whatsoever. Not after what he'd put them both through, not after what he'd done to countless others, even if it was to supposedly "right a wrong." (All I've ever thought abt is like. John's always like "if you understand human nature, nothing is left to chance," so he HAD to have known Hoffman would try to kill Jill - which would mean that John DIDN'T CARE. I hate this man so fucking much.) In this scenario, I find it very unlikely that Alison would want to stay with Jill, especially given that getting involved with Hoffman is very, very dangerous. So, again, I'd have to say that this ship would mostly occur in an AU where Jill just. Said "fuck that" to John's tape,,

However, if we are going the route of Jill basically ignoring John's tape, I think Alison & Jill are really happy to have found someone who can understand them so well, someone who makes them incredibly happy, which is something I think both of them have struggled to imagine they'd ever find again. I think it's a very healthy, very mutual relationship, both of them able to help the other heal and cope with everything they've been through. I love them + need to work out the finer details more but I'm honestly rlly fond of this ship <33

#asks #alison #jill #SKJSFHSK thank you bestie omg <33 #also: think of this. alison and jill? both their ex-husbands are technically jigsaw. that hurts me to think about #uhhh thinking abt disciple lawrence breaks my heart even though I can understand how it'd happen #therefore: I mostly think of this ship occurring in a non-disciple au #and even if it wasn't I don't think alison would ever find out lawrence is a disciple?#so she isn't aware of just how much she and jill have in common on that front #this is probably bc of how fond I am of larry but I just. canon already makes me so fucking sad so like. My City Now #but this ship could definitely still occur in canon. at least until jill receives that package and decides to get involved #sorry this one is kind of short aaa I'm still like. working things out btwn these two #I love jill so much she just wanted to help people. I fucking. I hate john so much #watch out grandpa I am going to break your kneecaps.#also: funnily enough I've also considered kerry/jill so like. TWO alisons. amazing

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watasemasaru · 2 years

Note

if you're still feeling like playing the rgg game can you answer: a3, a4, a7, b4, b5, c2, c10, e2, f7?

Yeah yeah yeah! <3

A) Just Your Faves:

3.Favorite Protagonist(s) Ichiban Kasuga Ichiban is just such a breath of fresh air; he's funny, relatable, charismatic. I'm more partial to a protag that's upbeat and a little dumb as opposed to someone stoic. I'll give Majima an honorable mention as he's also a lot of fun to walk through a story with.

4. Favorite Antagonist(s) Jin Kuwana. Like many who love this character, it's tied to a personal history of being bullied. There's only so much "waiting for things to change" before you can't take it anymore. Having someone like Kuwana who has decided that kids are dying now, I'm not waiting for the law is a comfort. "Doing what is right" isn't always going to mean following the law. AND HE'S SUPER CUTE JUST LOOK AT HIM. HE'S MY BABYGIRL

7. Favorite substory(ies) I loved hunting for the squirrels in Lost Judgment, and looking for cats in Judgment. In general I love answering the call of the primal urge to hunt and gather.

B) Let's get Personal:

4. Who would you like to post more, but don't? Why don't you? Watase...because I've combed through his tag like five or six times and reblogged everything just as much...and a good bit of the tag is just me being an idiot LMAO

5. Which character do you think you would bump heads with most if you knew them in real life? Masato Arakawa & Yoshitaka Mine. The problem being we're too much alike. The three of us in a room would be an insufferable nightmare. Three introverted loners, two with a complex of being the sibling no one not even your own parents liked? We gotta open a window the edge and depression is curling the paint help.

C) Let's be Subjective

2. Which game had the worst plotline? It's a tie between Y4 & Y6. TBH I couldn't tell you one fucking thing about Y6 and I played it twice other than its shit ending...all of it is shit I hate Y6 LOL. And Y4 is just - I don't get how it's a fan favorite, Akiyama I'm certain is the only reason why anyone holds it in such regard.

10. Which game do you think should get a remake? You could remake Y6 and retcon Haruka shaking up with bighead and I'd be satisfied. You could retcon all of Y6 and I'd be over the moon. Part of that game's problem is it just felt like prestige tv. One really long showcase of star studded named like Shun Oguri, Beat Takeshi, Tatsuya Fujiwara, and Hiroyuki Miyasako. I mean I guess Y0 did that too but it did it well, this one did not.

E) This or That?

2. Bops: Haruka Sawamura, T-SET, or Dream Line? Haruka Sawamura. So Much More is THE song okay. It's bright and catchy. And of course the all star remixes are so goodddddd. It's funny her VA sings the same way for Rise Kujikawa, but I absolutely hateeee her! The character's personality definitely helps make music likeable.

F) Insert Yourself

7. Who are you fighting on top of the Millennium Tower rooftop? I'm getting at least one swing at Kiryu and I'm gonna be screaming my qualms and crying the whole time cuz I'm so mad LMAO. You could line them all up and let me get one hit in though, I'll think of a reason why later >:3

#asks #kulemiwrites #hehehehehe thank you for the asks i love answering them

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saturatedsinset · 3 years

Note

if you get a chance to see the elite segment from dynamite this week: i gotta know your thoughts on the hangmatt confrontation. like kenny and hangman has been Too Much for me already, but truly matt's audacity to want to get at hangman by himself is off the charts

i'm putting this under a readmore because it got away from me a little bit but! tldr: matt sucks so much because kenny sucks and it's about the cycle of toxicity in friendships

so i woke up to this before i got up for the day proper and it sure was A Way to start my day. anyway i've kind of said a little of this in tags already but i think it's very. funny? something. that matt conceives of friendship in the same terms kenny does, ie as a game of domination over another person. kenny has to feel like he can control the people closest to him and because matt's been in that insular toxic environment for so long (and also because he's the worst) he's internalised that as like. How Friendships Are. we're good wrestlers and we win and we give you purpose, hangman, how could you leave us? for people who don't do those things? like matt's very. kenny being controlling is fine (to him) because it gives him purpose, he knows what he's doing, etc, and he can mostly ignore the Bad Parts of that because he can mostly ameliorate them by just doing what kenny wants - which is why it's so interesting to see when and why the bucks choose to dig their heels in/say no/push back and how they eventually capitulate to what kenny wants, because they always do - and he's a deeply selfish person so he can't conceive of adam. Not seeing things that way. of adam seeking validation/friendship as not dependent on wrestling success. even as adam has difficulty accepting that from the dark order because he's so used to that being The Way Relationships Are.

it's also very funny(?) that matt is very clearly trying to use the same manipulation tactics on hangman that kenny uses on him - @cuil-meleth made that gifset of the parallels in how kenny talks to matt and how matt talks to hangman - but hangman, like, has friends now who don't manipulate him constantly so he can see that it's. maybe bad, actually. to be treated like that. also matt is just much worse at manipulation than kenny is like i think matt's a very straightforward character in that the things that are important to him are 1. his brother 2. kenny 3. winning at the wrestling and that's, like. that's him. where kenny is a better manipulator not because he's necessarily more complex but because he's better at using the things your brain tells you against you. because his brain is always telling him things that aren't, like. true. so matt's trying to replicate the kind of manipulation that works on him - because he'll always choose kenny over almost anything else. maybe even over nick, one day. (i can only hope) - but hangman isn't falling for it because matt's worse at it and also because hangman isn't the same kind of invested.

i think matt's promo voice is also really interesting because like obviously we have the layers of promo as performance, promo not as conversation but as dramatic monologue, but the intonation used is always really interesting to me? so when hangman talks it's very, like. he's performing to a crowd, he's exaggerating his gesture, he's speaking very loudly, there's a Drama to his tone, but he's more. it's more believable to me that he would also say something like this at normal volume in normal conversation. part of that is that hangman's the babyface, he gets to be the voice of reason, the straightforward hard-working man, but part of it is also that matt's promo style is, uh, different. by which i mean. just insanely annoying. on purpose, obviously, but god does he suck. so he's Performing Disgust at hangman for leaving them, for drinking, for hanging out with the dark order, but he's doing it in a way that's even more exaggerated than is strictly necessary to play as a promo. it's heel work to be sure but it's really interesting to look at the contrast there. i'm not sure i had a point. uhh i hate matt jackson

matt approaching hangman alone is fun especially because of that bte ending bit a couple [weeks/months] back where he's like Sadly Watching Hangman Have Fun With The Dark Order and on his way to make amends and clearly now he's abandoned that to just fully commit to being theeeeee worst. the worst. like it's fun that matt feels entitled to approach hangman alone because he clearly thinks he, matt, has some hold over hangman that hangman is doing a very good job of ignoring. obviously it's also fun given the whole hangman/bucks feud around revolution 2020 and the fact that matt very obviously still feels slighted by that (i mean, fair, it's not like hangman wasn't being shitty)

uhhhhhhhh so i sure did have some thoughts. didn't expect to write an essay but here you go

#anon #matt #kenny #hangman

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twstarchives · 4 years

Text

Cater Diamond・Voice Lines

Additional Voice Lines: Beans Camo Event Card

School Uniform - R

Unlock Card “Wanna know some tips for having a fun life at school? I got you covered!”

Groovy “You gotta be full of energy when you’re with everyone ♪”

Home Setting “I kinda like the standard outfit.”

Home Transitions “Mm! The first-years’ uniforms always look so shiny and new.”

“Riddle’s calling for me. Wanna come with me?”

“Wait, are you free? Same here! So, anyway~ Do you have any Magicammable news to spill?”

Home Transition (Login Greeting) “Were you sad that you weren’t able to see Cay? ...Ahaha! I knew it. You’re so honest, Prefect~”

Home Taps “Our schools uniforms have a nice balance to them~ They’re not extra like our dorm uniforms, but they’re not too casual either.”

“Okay, pose! ...Aw, man! It came out blurry. Can I take one more? I want to post it on Magicam.”

“Huh? You think I look cool in my uniform? Ehh~! Where’s this coming from? You’re making me smile ♪”

“Sometimes it’s hard to tell what you’re thinking all the time, Prefect. ...Me? Aren’t I super easy to read~?”

“Hey, you know... you didn’t forget that I’m your senior, did you? JK! ♪ I probably shouldn’t ever do that to Riddle.”

PE Uniform - R

Unlock Card “Glistening sweat! Surging with youth! ...I’m kinda meh about these kinds of things.”

Groovy “I’m always down for an aesthetic-looking sport! ♪ Play with me, Prefect!”

Home Setting “Alright, our PE uniform!”

Home Transitions “I’ve got things to do too, you know! Huh? ‘Like what?’ Like... looking for stuff to post on Magicam!”

“Prefect, your collar, your collar! I saw Riddle nearby, so maybe you should hurry up and fix that.”

“Coach Vargas’s classes are so exhausting, aren’t they? I get it; I felt that way when I was a first-year too.”

Home Transition (Login Greeting) “You can find a lot of different ways to wear our PE uniforms. Hmm~ The way you wear yours is nice!”

Home Taps “You don’t need to force yourself to use honorifics with me. I don’t really mind things like that. Plus it’s easier that way, right?”

“What is it? What is it? You’re worried about something? I could never turn my back on my cute little junior if they’re in need~”

“Have you gotten used to life at this school yet? It’s really interesting with all the weird people here. Kinda feels like a gold mine of things to use for Magicam ♪”

“Athletics...? I’m not bad at them, but I don’t know how anyone could get so pumped up about them.”

“Wait, is this a popular game right now? Don’t tell me I’m late on the bandwagon!?”

Lab Coat - SR

Unlock Card “Even studying can be a blast when it looks fun and photogenic!”

Groovy “Let’s take things nice and slow! You’ll burn yourself out if you’re only ever working too hard.”

Home Setting “Alright, let’s get to work!”

Home Transitions “Hehe, do you need your senior’s advice on something? Okay, okay, relax and talk it out with me ♪”

“‘What am I usually doing?’ Mm, that’s a secret. No, I’m not free all the time! Cay is very, very busy!”

“What’re you doing today? If you’re free, then let me invite you on Cay’s Tour for Collecting Stuff for Magicam ♪”

Home Transition (Login Greeting) “There’s someone better suited to help you with your work if that’s what you need. How about you go see Trey?”

Home Transition (Groovy) “So? I look a lot more serious than usual, don’t I? Ehh~! What’s with that reaction!? I’ll have to show you my actual serious side sometime.”

Home Taps “You seem to have a lot of time on your hands, Prefect. Are you all ready for class?”

“Looking aesthetic for Magicam is important. They say that having things you’re mindful of makes your everyday life a lot fuller!”

“Dedication is not a bad thing, but you need to give yourself a break sometimes too. See? Look how relaxed Grim is...”

“Prefect, you should focus only on the important things for your future~ Just like I do ♪”

“What? What? Are you homesick? I don’t think I can really relate to that~...”

Home Tap (Groovy) “Everyday has been so exciting ever since you came here. It never gets boring.”

Ceremony Robes - SR

Unlock Card “I like to try looking sharp every once in a while ♪ What do you think? Personally, I think it fits!”

Groovy “Our special ceremony robes! Let’s take a pic together to commemorate ♪”

Home Setting “How do I look? Handsome?”

Home Transitions “Are you interested in my robes? Wanna take a pic?”

“Does this look good on me? Sometimes looking formal like this is nice, don’t you think?”

“Hey, nice work today ♪ You can chill out for a little bit now~ I’m taking some downtime myself.”

Home Transition (Login Greeting) “What? Something happened again? Things are always so busy around you, Prefect~”

Home Transition (Groovy) “Your belt’s a little out of place. Alright, there you go. These are our special ceremony robes, so make sure you keep them looking picture-perfect, ‘kay?”

Home Taps “Man, our ceremony robes seriously are so cool~ When the whole school is lined up wearing them, it feels super powerful!”

“Our robes look the best at nighttime, but trying to get the right lighting when I’m taking pictures of them is seriously the worst...”

“What? What? You wanna know more about me? Mm, what should I say~?”

“Let’s talk about all kinds of things! You look like you’re full of interesting things I could post about.”

“I know. I know you want so desperately for Cay to fawn over you. But could you calm down just a little?”

Home Tap (Groovy) “Alright, you’ve got some new problem to solve, right? Well, even if you don’t, I’ll come with you anyway. ‘Cause it sounds like fun ♪”

Dorm Uniform - SSR

Unlock Card “You have to have fun with croquet and Unbirthday parties ♪”

“Everything’s alright now, ‘cause I’m here! Just kidding ♪”

Groovy “Do you want to see Cay’s serious side? Okay, if you insist!”

Home Setting “Our dorm uniforms really do fit the best.”

Home Transitions “Don’t get me involved in any trouble... Well, there’s not really any point in me saying that. You’re so hopeless, Prefect~”

“You called for me again? Hehe, I bet you often get comments about how curious you are~”

“Trey’s desserts are so Magicammable~ And they’re super delicious! Wanna come with me to go eat some, Prefect?”

Home Transition (Login Greeting) “Let’s make a memory of today—do a peace sign! ☆ Hehe, that was a nice shot! Okay, what tags should I use?”

Home Transition (Groovy) “Do you wanna secretly try on our dorm uniforms sometime? They might actually look good on you~”

Home Taps “Have you seen Heartslabyul’s lounge yet? You really can’t find decorations with an aesthetic like that anywhere else.”

“If you want to look fire in our dorm uniforms, you gotta know the latest trends! Maybe come shopping with me next time?”

“Have you ever noticed that the playing card pins on the left sides of our chests have a different design for each person? Tiny details like that are so cool ♪”

“Aren’t you homesick or anything? Hm? Me? I’m... not. I’ve got some unreasonable older sisters...”

“It’s nice you feel so comfortable around me... but don’t tell me you’re trying to bring down Cay’s dignity?”

Home Tap (Groovy) “It would’ve been so much fun if you were in Heartslabyul with us, Prefect. Well, there’s no point in talking about things that’ll never happen ♪”

Duo Magic Cater: “Trey, you ready~?” Trey: “Got it, Cater! Count on me to back you up!”

Birthday Celebration Outfit - SSR

This card was only obtainable during Cater’s birthday event (Feb 3 - Feb 9, 2021).

Login on Birthday “You remembered my birthday? Thanks! You’re so nice for coming to celebrate. I’m super happy, so let’s post on Magicam ♪ Okay, look this way~!”

Unlock Card “Wow! This is getting a super ton of views on Magicam! ☆ Birthday parties rake in so much attention!”

“‘Happy birthday’ is such a nice phrase~ It feels like the ones celebrating and the one being celebrated can both be happy, doesn’t it?”

Groovy “Okay, grab your glasses... Cheers~! Thanks for making my birthday so much fun ♪”

Home Setting “Wearing this outfit makes it really feel like it’s someone’s birthday~”

Home Transitions “Astrology’s my best subject! But I won’t do my own birthday fortune reading... ‘Cause it’s so much more exciting not knowing your future! ♪”

“Is the toothbrush Trey gave me his way of saying to take care of my fang tooth? Well, it is one of my charm points! ☆”

“We have lots of rules in our dorm, but it’s my birthday, so it’s okay if I break some! ...Probably not... Yeah... Boohoo.”

Home Transition (Login Greeting) “It feels so exciting with everyone celebrating! I think I’ll use my Unique Magic and make some clones to show off around the school.”

Home Transition (Groovy) “Just between you and me, keeping up a smile for the entirety of the party gets kind of tiring... Just kidding!”

Home Taps “Idia gave me Magicam stickers as a present! I don’t know what anime they’re from, but I’m happy! ♪”

“Maybe Vil would follow my Magicam if I asked for that instead of a birthday present~”

“I got a skateboard from Kalim. ☆ He said he’s pretty good at skateboarding too, so next time we’ll go do it together!”

“My dorm made me a bright red, diamond-shaped quiche! It was filled with habaneros. I love super spicy foods so it was perfect ♪”

“My rosette was crooked? Thanks for fixing it~!”

Home Tap (Groovy) “I kinda wanna make some noise! How about you, Prefect? Wanna sing together? Or we could dance?”

Duo Magic Cater: “Lilia-kins, let’s take a pic for the birthday memories!” Lilia: “Cater, a happy birthday to you!”

Tutorial “Let’s have fun together, ‘kay?”

Lv Up “Yay~ I’m getting stronger!”

“‘#BetterThanEverCay’ kind of energy!”

“Let’s keep doing our best from now on!”

Max Lv Up “I always thought anything goes as long as I’m having some kind of fun, but I actually like getting serious every once in a while. Plus I want to look cool when I’m posting on Magicam.”

Episode Lv Up “You think we’re really close friends? Ehh~ You’re so funny~! Hahaha, I wasn’t saying I hate the idea; why are you making that face? It’s just, you said it so seriously—I guess I don’t know how to react.”

Magic Lv Up “Hmm, so you’re the type who would do things like this for me. Thanks!”

Limit Break “Don’t you think I’ve got wayyy too much potential? Hahaha! Well, thanks for all your help!”

Groovy “Man, aren’t I super cool now? It’s getting me all excited!”

Lesson Select “Let’s do our work together! I’m still your senior, so I should try to impress you ♪”

“You really are super dedicated to things... Do you get that a lot? ...Yup, I thought so!”

“C’mon, give yourself a break. It’s not worth putting so much effort just into your classes.”

Lesson Start “Alright, let’s get things done!”

Lesson End “It’s finally over! Time for my after-class Magicam check!”

Battle Start “Make sure to repost and share all my impressive moves!”

Battle Win “That should be enough. Bye-bye!”

Other

Profile Quote “Welcome to Heartslabyul, the dorm run by the strict ‘Queen’ ♪”

January 2020 Trailer “We’re waiting for our dutiful little freshman!”

Countdown Poster “You have to have fun with croquet and Unbirthday parties ♪”

Login Bonus “Oh, you look like you’re doing well again today~! We should get going soon. But before that, wanna grab some tea so I can get a few shots for Magicam?”

Player Birthday Wish “Happy birthday! You can’t believe I remembered...? As if I’d ever forget this special day! I got a present ready that I think will make you really happy. And there’s no doubt about that, since Cay picked it out! ♪”

Valentine’s Gift Letter (2021)

These letters were originally in English. I didn’t translate or edit them in any way. They came with official merch from Aniplex, and are not present in-game.

Helloooooo, Thanks for the present! It was totally awesome! I didn’t know you were an expert at choosing thoughtful gifts ♪ I already took a picture and put it up on Magicam, so go and give it a Like! ;)

#twisted wonderland #cater diamond #voice lines

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xenoblademisadventures · 3 years

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read the tags on your post about ripping apart xc2 and i gotta say. same dude. i loved the game but that one cutscene on the cliffs of morytha where rex like hallucinated pyra is the worst cutscene ive ever seen. especially when it cuts to the vision of aion and pyra/mythras like "this is our power. as your sure this is what you want" and im just like yeah actually, its a cool fucking robot what reason have you given me not to want it. its not even what mythra used to accidently destroy torna in the prequel that was siren

Yeah. That cutscene actually singlehandedly soured my enjoyment of the game so much that I can't bring myself to play it anymore. This will be fun to elaborate on. Tw: suicide mention.

I truly despise this cutscene entirely due to it brushing off the suicide plot in favor of giving Rex an anime power up.

"The reason we wanted to go to Elysium was to beg our father to let us die."

"Listen, I swore to you, we're going to Elysium. Together."

Like, no. No. Fuck you. The writers above all else. This was the single most important part of Pyra's and Mythra's character arc to get right the they didn't even try. It's been thoroughly established that they want to die because they see themselves as a threat to the world and will inevitably irreparably harm everyone that they love. Mythra is coming from an abusive (or at least, extremely toxic) background where she was both treated as an unwanted burden everyone had to carry around and as a potential ticking time bomb who will kill everyone while being bullied for random shit in between. Pyra is coming from the background of being the face of Mythra's self hatred. Mythra literally already attempted to kill herself by creating Pyra. Rex's piffy nonsense should not have been enough to make her not suicidal.

Here's the problem from a character writing perspective "you have friends who love you" and "my existence is a burden and I will hurt everyone I love" aren't mutually exclusive ideals. And besides the promise to reach Elysium also being the suicide condition, sometimes making commitments isn't enough to stop people from killing themselves and leveraging those commitments over their heads is cold and unhelpful.

I hate how dismissively the writers treated Pyra and Mythra being suicidal when that plot point most mattered.

Alongside that, they chose to establish that Jin is suicidal in a really stupid way. You can't just look at someone in the eyes and ping them as suicidal. People who are suicidal don't flag it like that.

Besides that, Jin would be the second Xenoblade character where they're suicidal and Monolith decides to depict that as being a danger to the people around them. The first being Lao. Lao works better because, first there's an answer for why he doesn't just kill himself and why it had to be everyone else's problem, and second, Elma isn't concerned with Lao's wellbeing and that makes for some interesting scenes. But the larger issue for both of them is that they emphasize how suicide impacts the people who aren't suicidal. They're both depicted as uncontrollable, beautiful, and dangerous. That's not a good.

It's also bad that Pneuma, Lao, and Jin all end their arcs by heroically sacrificing themself (Lao accidentally fell into a vat tube but same difference, the character dies sort of).

Anyways the reason why this part of this scene ruins the entire game for me is that it perpetuates certain stereotypes about suicide that, at best, can make people who know someone who killed themself feel worse and, at worse, push someone further into a suicidal mindset.

Like, Rex just knew the right words to make Pyra and Mythra not suicidal? Imagine if a loved one killed themself and you believed that it was all because you didn't say the elusive magic right words to save them? Imagine if you feel suicidal and you want someone to say something that will drag you out of that mentality but that doesn't happen? Rex leverages his friendship with Pyra and Mythra and that works. Imagine a close friend killed themself. Was it because you just didn't love them hard enough? No. Imagine you are suicidal. Maybe you think you don't have those friends or never will. Maybe you think that you're only making things worse for your existing amazing friends. Both of those conclusions can make things worse.

Stories absolutely should not talk about suicide without having a giant ass content warning. Like, I don't think anyone's going to play Xenoblade 2 and immediately kill themselves for it, but it does reinforce common myths about it that absolutely can make things worse for people.

It doesn't help that this is when the story starts being like "humanity sucks we're philosophical."

There are a lot of other things wrong with that scene and the game as a whole. Despite what I said at the beginning, this scene alone didn't make me hate the game. But it was the final major blow to my ability to enjoy the game. I went from "the game's decent but nowhere near as good as it should be, I want to dissect it" to "fuck at least one of the writers" over time.

#another person being like lol x thing was bad for this reason #and then i proceed to go on a multi paragraph rant about a completely different thing related to the thing #tw suicide mention #xenoblade chronicles 2 #ask #anonymous #this answer is a bit less organized than this analysis probably deserves #id go more into detail if I knew more about suicide #i consider this to be a black mark in the game #the sidequest where the suicidal nopon was played as a joke also offended me #lao just doesnt offend me in the same way probably because him being suicidal went somewhere #i barely remember the ending of hope's second sidequest so i wont comment #i dont remember suicide being brought up anywhere in xenoblade 1 #suicide is just a really delicate topic that can cause massive damage when handled poorly #i dont mind fanfictions and stuff trying to address it and stuff because people are learning how to write and they're limited in scope #but I dont like that it's being handled recklessly in massive productions that millions of people will see #and im not even saying xenoblade 2 cant help someone going through a rough period in their life #it's funny and sometimes that's all someone needs to help them push through #but it's toxic messages about suicide can also really hurt someone going through a rough time #in case anyone's curious the suicidal nopon mythra bed scene and the anti climactic end to the mor ardain uraya war were also massive #things that killed my enjoyment of the game

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jadekitty777 · 3 years

Text

On Your Six, Chapter 4

Already at chapter 4 - we’re halfway there!

Day 4: Role Swap for @taiqrowweek

Rating: T for this chapter, M for overall

Words: 2.5k

Summary: Qrow was what most of society would call a small-town criminal. But to those oppressed, he hoped only to be a healer. In an effort to make a change in the world, he moves from kingdom to kingdom, searching for branded omegas in need. His goal? To turn the derogatory words the reformatories forced them to bear on their skin into works of art.

Then one day, his past catches up to him in the form of Taiyang, his former best friend, with a brand of his own stained onto his skin and a plea for help in his eyes. Qrow has no choice but to answer, even if it means he’d have to face his mistakes once and for all.

[An ABO-style universe in a modern-day style Remnant. No Grimm, because people are the real monsters in this one]

Ao3 Link: On Your Shoulder

When Qrow was ten, he was declared old enough to be able to spend a week away from home without his folks tagging along. Which meant he was allowed to join Tai’s family on their week-long vacation at their cabin in the woods they went to every summer.

On one condition: He had to bring Raven.

One grisly agreement to do all her chores for an entire month later found him leaping at imaginary foes in the backyard with Tai as they weaved around the maples trees forest of doom.

“Hi-yah!” Tai roundhouse kicked a beowulf into dust. “Harbinger, watch out! Three behind you!”

“You thought you could sneak up on me!” Qrow bellowed, swinging his scythe around him and sliced the three right in half.

Tai rushed past him. “Hurry! I see the exit!”

He followed him, his shorter legs struggling to keep up. But in this case it was a benefit, because he could see his friend’s path was leading him to a patch of dirt ahead. “Tatsu, watch out! Quicksand!”

“What? There’s no – oh noooo!” He wheeled his arms, flopping onto his stomach. He flailed about like a fish. “I can’t get out!”

Qrow frantically flittered at the edge. “Hold on, I’ll get you out!” He circled around to where Tai’s front half was, squatting down. After a moment’s consideration, he scooted off the grass so he was in reaching distance.

“You’re in the quicksand.” Tai whispered loudly.

“I’m not gonna pull you out by your butt.” He whispered back before going back to hero mode. “Reach! I got you!”

Silently agreeing to the no-butt policy, his friend carried on as normal. “No, it’s too late for me. Go, you have to save the kingdom without me!”

“I’d never leave you behind. It’s you and me against the world and we’re gonna stick it out to the bitter end.” Qrow vowed, hoping he sounded just as brave as the Rosette did when she was encouraging her team into the big battle during the finale of Silver Eyes. “Now take my hand!”

Tai stretched his arm out as far as it could go. Qrow scooted a bit more forward, grabbing on.

Just as he was about to pull out his friend and be the big hero, his sister ruined everything. “What are you guys doing?”

They both groaned loudly, pulling themselves off the ground.

“Raven!” Qrow whined. “You’re supposed to stay in the castle until we knock on the door!”

She gave a dismissive glance back at the shed she’d been in since they started their epic journey across the land. “You guys were taking too long. And I finished my book already.”

“Well go get another one and go back in there!” He stomped his foot angrily. Why did she always have to be the worst? They let her be the Last Boss and everything and she still couldn’t get that right.

“Nah, I’m bored. Besides you’re not even playing it right.”

Tai looked up from the dirt he was trying to pat out of his shorts. “What do you mean?”

“You’re supposed to be the one saving him.” She explained, waving to Qrow. “Omegas aren’t strong enough to save people.”

He hunched down until his shoulders were practically touching his ears. He hated it when his sister was being a know-it-all. “Shut up. It’s our game.”

“Yeah. Besides, Harbinger is a hero. Heroes can do whatever they want.” Tai agreed, reminding Qrow why he was his best friend in the whole world.

Raven wrinkled her nose, making her face look ugly. “That’s dumb. You gotta do it right. Here, I’ll show you.” Then, with no warning at all, she strode over and shoved her hands into Qrow’s chest, knocking him down.

He yelped, trying to catch himself, his palms getting scrubbed raw on the dirt. He bit his lip, eyes starting to water.

“What are you doing?!” Tai cried as he hurried over, pushing Raven back.

Though she stumbled, she didn’t go down like Qrow had. “I said I was showing you! Look he’s already crying.”

The dam he was trying to hold back overflowed the second they were both looking at him. He scrambled to his feet, trying to hide his face as he ran away. Normally, he’d go hide up in his room but he didn’t want Tai’s parents to see him crying because then they might call his parents. Then he might have to go home. The idea only brought more sniveling.

Instead, he found himself clambering into the Secret Cave Tai had shared with him on the first day. It was a hole under the porch where the lattice had broken in. It wasn’t wide enough for an adult, but Tai and he had no problem squeezing through. The ground was littered with random odd and ends – leaves, rocks, a single black feather. They’d collected it all when they had been dragons and were gathering their hordes. He crawled around it all and made his way to the very back where the porch met the foundation of the house, sitting against it and burying his face into his knees.

He was mostly better by the time Tai crawled in beside him.

“I brought you something.” He offered him one of those prepackaged cupcakes with the little white swirls on top.

Qrow scrubbed the last of his tears away, and took the treat with a quiet, “Thanks.” The smell of chocolate hit his nose immediately as he tore into the plastic, taking a huge bite to get right to the frosting inside the middle.

Tai started picking up some of their rocks, throwing them at the lattice. The ones that didn’t slip in between the diamonds made a pleasant knocking noise as they bounced off the wood. When he’d run out of things to throw, he asked, “Wanna go and play some video games?”

The idea of leaving his hiding spot and running into his sister filled him with dread. Unsure how to say that, he just shook his head frantically.

“Okay.” Tai gathered more rocks, giving him a handful. It wasn’t a competition but Qrow started to keep count in his head as he tried to throw more of them through the holes. Though, it quickly became clear who was going to win when his friend was already up to three by the time he got his first one.

He felt like crying again and he didn’t know why.

“Tai?”

“Yeah?”

“Can I tell you a secret?”

“Yeah.”

Qrow sat on his knees and grabbed his arm, very serious. “You can’t tell anyone else, okay? Not even if they threaten to scratch out your eyes. Not even then!”

“I won’t!” Tai motioned an X over his heart. “I swear.”

Satisfied, he settled back, though the franticness inside him only seemed to increase. Faced with the realty of saying the words aloud was more terrifying than he expected.

But if there was anyone he could trust, it was definitely Tai.

He took the biggest breath he could and let it all out in a rush, “I don’t want to be an omega.”

“Because of what Raven said?” His friend guessed.

“And everything else.” He threw a rock as hard as he could. It rebounded from the wood with enough force that it dropped back between his feet. He threw it again. “You know how we had to go get those tests done at the doctor’s so we’re ready for P.E. next year? I asked mom if I could get the special one like Raven so I could join wrestling too, but she said no, ‘cause it’s too rough for me. I hate it. I can’t do anything Raven does! They always treat her like she’s better.” He hugged his legs again, clutching onto his pants. “And you know what dad said to mom when I was begging to come here with you? He said to let me go because in a few years I won’t even want to be friends with you.”

Tai looked just about as distressed as he felt. “Wait, why wouldn’t you want to be friends with me anymore?”

“I don’t know!” He cried. “‘Cause I guess being an omega means I can’t have fun and I don’t like people and I’ll be sad all the time.”

“I don’t think that’s right.”

“Well, my mom cries almost every day and when I asked dad about it he just said it was an omega thing.”

Still frowning, Tai shook his head. “But my dad doesn’t do that. The only time I’ve seen him cry is during movies.”

“He’s probably hiding it.” Qrow claimed, because it was the only thing that made sense. His mom used to do the same thing. He only knew back then because he could hear it through the wall of his bedroom.

Tai was quiet a long moment, considering that. When he spoke again, it sounded like he was trying to work out the words as they came out of his mouth, “Maybe your dad’s wrong. Maybe it’s not an omega thing, but your mom’s thing.”

“My dad wouldn’t lie to me!” He shouted.

“Maybe he doesn’t know he is. Parents can be wrong.”

“No, they aren’t. That’s why they’re parents.” He claimed, the statement a universal truth.

But Tai had always been better at arguing than him as he pointed out, “Okay, if your dad’s right about everything, then that means he’s right about us not being friends when we grow up.”

Hearing that should have made everything better, but it just made things worse. If he couldn’t believe his mom and dad, then maybe everything was wrong. That was too much to think about.

Qrow turned his head away, curling up even tighter into a ball. He didn’t like this conversation anymore.

There was a bit of shuffling as Tai pressed in close, hugging him.

They didn’t talk again for a long time.

“I can’t believe you remember that.” Qrow remarked. His pen was buzzing out brown ink to shade the cave that had sparked the memory in the first place. With the onset of July, the room was sticky and hot, furthering the illusion of that long-forgotten summer day.

Tai peeked an eye open to give him a cursory glance, before burrowing his head further into his arms as a few sweeps came close to his spine. His voice was tight when he spoke, “Well, they say the mind is the first thing to go.”

“The next is motor functions.” He quipped right back as he pulled back to ink up, faking tremors in the hand still lying flat along Tai’s back. “Might just make a mistake here.”

“Don’t you dare!”

Chortling, he steadied before the needle met skin again. He continued the conversation almost absent-mindedly, “I really made a big deal out of nothing back then, huh?”

“Only seems like nothing in retrospect.” Tai contended mildly. “You know, the kids in my class are just like we were back then. Most of them are already worried about presenting – and they’re only eight! The worst of ‘em have parents like ours, who put so much emphasis on what they think their child is going to become and have already started raising them that way.”

“Yeah. It messes with their heads. As if growing up ain’t hard enough.” He scoffed. “Though even if I was raised alpha to begin with, pretty sure I was always destined to have a messy childhood.”

“Well… yeah.” The omega trailed off, unsure what to say.

What could anyone say? Between his mother’s depression that landed her in the reformatory and later death, and his dad’s developing alcoholism that resulted in Raven and he practically raising themselves from middle school onward, Qrow probably had enough issues to fill a lifetime drama series.

(Sometimes, he thought about seeking out his old man. Telling him it wasn’t his fault. That none of them knew how to help mom, least of all the suits who claimed it was just a common case of chronic hysteria.

Thought about it up until he looked in the mirror and saw the scar above his right eyebrow and reminded himself just why he had left home to begin with.)

“Still.” Tai cut through his thoughts, “I think you turned out pretty alright.”

As he pulled back to survey his work thus far, his reply was cheekily derisive, “I’m only a criminal constantly on the run from the law. So, yeah. Doing spectacular.”

But his friend had always been good at giving back what was dished out as he cupped a hand around his ear, “Oh sorry, what was that? Your newest customers are a trio of triplets? And you’re planning on spending the next several days making sure their tattoos match? Wow, you must be really dedicated to what you do to go through so much effort.”

“If you’re going to use my clients as ammo, I’m going to stop telling you about them.” Even to his ears, it sounded painfully childish. Tai grinned like he knew it too. “Come on, break time. I got to switch to the rounders for the yellow.”

Qrow undid his pen from the power cord, heading into the kitchen. His motions were practiced as he started undoing the screws that held the needle chamber in place before popping it open and taking out the needle itself, tossing it in the trash. He turned on the sink, and while he waited for the water to run hot, he heard footfalls beside him. Tai lent his hip against the counter, still modestly fascinated by the way the device came apart despite how many times he’d seen it by now.

Or maybe he just wanted to continue their conversation. “You know, I told myself early on I wouldn’t make the same mistakes my parents did.”

“Meaning?” He asked as he thrust the chamber under the steaming waterfall.

“I want to give my kids the opportunities we didn’t have. So if Yang wants to learn kickboxing and sewing, then damnit, she’s gonna learn kickboxing and sewing. And if I turn around one day and Ruby’s constructed a – a scythe, then I don’t want to tell her how alpha that was of her, I just want her to know I’m proud of her.”

“Bullshit.” Qrow laughed. “You would not be proud of her for making a scythe. You’d have a level five meltdown.”

He smacked his arm. “I was exaggerating! The point is, I want my kids to be able to explore who they are without worrying about upsetting me. Or give them lifelong doubts of whether they disappointed me by not turning out the way I expected them too.”

They weren’t talking about Ruby and Yang anymore.

The water was shut off. Qrow gave his friend a gentle glance. “Lucky for them, they’re being raised by you. You’ve never let stuff like that get in the way before, you won’t let it start with your kids.”

Tai blinked, then beamed bright as the sun. “Thanks Qrow.”

“Yeah, yeah. Now cut it out. You’re gonna make me melt.” Too late.

He already had.

#qrow branwen #taiyang xiao long #Taiqrow #taiqrowweek #rwby #fanfiction #Chase Firekitten's Tale

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