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sluttyten · 4 months ago

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magic tricks and magical d*cks

Kinktober Day 3 | Johnny Masterlist | Member Masterlist

tags: warlock!johnny, wand puns, magic, blowjobs, cock worship, fingering, strangers to lovers

length: 5435

Growing up, you’d always believed in magic.

You were raised on Harry Potter, dreaming of getting your Hogwarts letter at eleven, disappointed when it didn’t arrive. As a child, you spent a lot of time making up rhyming phrases with your friends that you pretended were spells, buying crystals, trying to channel the innate magic you knew you must have been born with.

Nothing.

Once you reached high school, you started getting into the occult, into underground communities that truly believed in and practiced magic. Real magic.

It was all real.

A whole world mingled with yours, practicing magic and demonology and all sorts of incredible things that you’d almost begun to think couldn’t exist.

But it does.

You find your community in Chicago, on the shores of Lake Michigan.

And it’s there that you learn of Johnny.

Johnny isn’t necessarily what you expected a warlock to be. You hear warlock and you imagine an uber-powerful grizzly, gnarled older man wearing robes and wielding a staff, chanting in an ancient, forgotten language.

But Johnny is young and hot, he dresses like a runway model, and when you’re lucky enough to observe him spell-casting he uses English and occasionally Korean. And he’s the top warlock in the Midwest.

He’s everything you aspire to be as a spellcaster. Johnny has the power and prestige that you’ve felt you’re destined to have. He’s a god among mere mortals.

So you’re kind of his fangirl. Among the magic-scene of Chicago, Johnny is sort of like the hottest bachelor, a party boy who hosts the best parties because everything is enhanced by magic — the lights, the music, the food, booze, drugs — and he’s like the mayor of the underground. He takes care of the city and surrounding areas, overseeing infrastructure spells, protection spells, making sure that local spellcasters don’t go too wild on the holidays.

He basically reminds you of Magnus Bane from the Mortal Instruments series (who you’d definitely had a crush on while reading the books and when you’d watched the film).

Shortly after you ingratiate yourself into the magical community in Chicago, you befriend a man named Kun. Kun began his interest in magic with sleight of hand and card magic, but he’d slowly slid into true magic, learning from a talented wizard in China before Kun heard about Johnny. He immigrated to America just to move to Chicago and learn from the best.

Though, when you meet him, Kun hasn’t yet succeeded in attaining the apprenticeship with Johnny just yet.

“But I’m learning a lot of new spells,” he tells you. “It’s interesting how spells differ around the world, in different languages. How different people access their magic.”

Kun, for example, uses a stereotypical magician wand – the ebony stick with ivory tips. When you came to Chicago and found the community, a kindly old witch helped you create your wand – a short oak wand with a rose quartz set in the tip. But you’ve known witches that exclusively use crystals to access their powers, warlocks who wield staffs, some access their magic through amulets, and there’s even been a warlock you met that simply used his iPhone to cast his spells.

But, typically, almost all of the spellcasters you’ve met have used wands of some sort, and you love it when everyone comes together, as it gives you the chance to see the diversity of magic, like Kun was saying.

It’s Kun that first introduces you to the celebrity of Johnny on your first New Years Eve in the city, dragging you along to the warlock’s citywide blessing celebration. It's there that you first lay eyes on Johnny’s beauty, and you first witness him perform magic.

You’re far back in the crowd, but you can hear Johnny's voice booming over the crowd as midnight nears, he promises a safe and prosperous year, and as the seconds tick down, Johnny begins casting. You can’t see him at all, but you see the resulting network of protection thrown up in the sky, stretching towards the outer limits, resembling fireworks as midnight strikes.

It’s the most incredible magic you’ve ever seen, and suddenly you understand Kun’s obsession with the warlock.

As you leave the site, Kun nearly crushes your hand when he realizes that you’re walking right by where Johnny stands. He’s just standing there with a sparkling glass of champagne in hand, laughing with a group of people. His hair is long, down to his chin, dyed a warm shade of brown, a bit windblown.

You pause, watching him for a moment, and you swear his gaze slips away from one of the other men he’s talking to, and for a second his eyes meet yours.

A warm spark embeds itself in your chest.

And then he’s looking away again, and Kun’s pulling you down the park path towards the train station. But you’re hooked on Johnny by that point.

“It’s my goal to get invited to one of his parties,” Kun tells you once you’re on the train home. “I know a guy who’s apprenticed to Johnny, and he keeps promising me that he’s going to get me an invite to a party, or at least put in a good word the next time an apprenticeship spot opens.”

You go on with your normal life, hearing about Johnny through the gossip network of magic users you encounter in the city.

In those first few months of the year, you’re so busy with work (at your devastatingly non-magical job) that you don’t get much practice in with your spell work except for simple ones like housework, warming spells, and some productivity spells to help you finish your work a little faster. When March rolls around, thawing the city a little from deep winter, replacing all of the snow and ice with lots of rain (mixed with some days of snow and ice), you finally catch a little break.

“We thought you’d left the city,” a witch friend says when you finally show up at a weekly Witching and Wining night at a witch-run bar. “No one’s seen you in months! Whatever you want, babe, tonight it’s on me. I’ve missed you, and I’ve been dying to tell you about this client I had!”

She buys your first drink of the night, sits there babbling at you about a client who hired her for some cosmetic architectural spellwork. A few other witches and warlocks join in with stories of their horrible clients, and soon you’re feeling a little more grateful that your magic isn’t yet up to the par of being able to take on a magical occupation.

One warlock, who works as a meteorologist for a news channel in the city, complains loudly about how he swears there’s someone magically sabotaging the weather. “Things have just been wild in terms of weather. Blizzard after blizzard. The ice drifts on the lake? They’re damn near giant icebergs out there. The weather changes on a dime, huge winter storms springing up out of nothing. It’s worse than usual this winter. I’ve put in a request to His Royal Highness Johnny’s people to look into it, but all I keep getting is his apprentices. I’ve heard rumors that his powers are actually waning, and he knows his New Year protection spell didn’t take as it should’ve, so he’s in hiding.”

“You’re ridiculous!” Your friend says, swatting the warlock’s arm. “The weather here always sucks. It doesn’t mean anyone’s cursed is. And maybe Johnny is busy. I’ve heard rumors that the city police have recruited him to track down a serial killer.”

You know Kun would be sitting here denying every accusation against his idol, but he’s gone right now, flown home to China for a few weeks. You’re watching his apartment, which couldn’t have happened at a better time since it was just when your lease on your place expired.

When the end of Witching and Wining night comes, you bid your friends a goodnight, bundle yourself into your coat, and you step out into the night.

This part of the city has a high magical population, which is exactly why Kun moved here, and you’re grateful for that right now as you’ve only got a fifteen minute walk back to his place instead of a ten minute walk to the train station, the lengthy train ride, and then a thirteen minute walk from there to your old place. And tonight the air is bitterly cold, thick clouds fill the sky, the ugly gray that tells you they hold either rain or snow, and given how cold it is, you can sense another blizzard coming on.

You rub your hands together, trying to keep the blood flowing to your fingertips before you remember that you’re a witch now. You dig your wand out of your coat pocket, and with the quartz tip, you draw a symbol in each of your palms. You slip your wand back into your pocket, feeling the symbols tingling on your hands, and you bring your cupped palms up to your lips as you whisper the words of the warming spell that matches the symbols. A small flame appears, shielded in your hands from the breeze. You hunch your shoulders against the wind, wishing you’d worn a hat and scarf tonight, but when you’d left earlier in the evening, it had been a mild 50°F, which is a rather decent temperature.

As you walk, snow begins to fall and the wind grows stronger and stronger until you step around a corner, and the wind buffets you backwards. Your shoulder crashes into the wall of the building, and you drop your warm little flame, helpless as it extinguishes itself on the ground.

You curse, wrapping your arms around yourself against the cold wind. Flurries hit your cheeks, and you’re already running through a list of warming, defrosting, and drying spells for once you reach Kun’s apartment. The snow is melting into your shoes and down the collar of your coat.

You brace the corner again, bowing your head and shouldering into the wind, walking straight into it down the street. Just two more blocks before you’re there, but you feel like every step you take, the wind pushes you back two more. And it’s so cold, your nose and eyes are both watering, your teeth chatter, but you can’t think of a warming spell strong enough to work in this situation.

You’ve made it halfway along the block when you’re suddenly enveloped in a pocket of warmth, blessedly wind free.

Of course, without the resistance of the wind there, you suddenly fall forward onto the snowy sidewalk.

“Oh, sorry. I didn’t think about that happening, I was just trying to make your walk a little easier,” a masculine voice says above you.

Hands grip the back of your jacket, and suddenly you’re being lifted up, placed once more on your own two feet.

And you’re facing him. Johnny. The great warlock of Chicago.

He smiles. “This storm really came out of nowhere, huh?” He brushes a hand down your back, knocking off snow. “My apprentices told me that the meteorologists can’t make sense of it, and I’ve been away in Seoul on some warlock business, but, shit. I thought I’d take a look around, see what they were talking about. And this doesn’t look good.”

You’re just staring at him, perhaps a bit dumbly, but you can’t help it. He’s even more handsome at this distance — close enough that you can see each eyelash, the stubble on his chin, the bobbing of his Adam’s apple — and he’s talking to you like this is normal, like you know each other and he’s just catching up with you.

“I’m sorry,” he apologizes suddenly, taking a half step back. “I’m Johnny Suh, High Warlock of Chicago.” Johnny holds his hand out to you.

You slide your hand into his, savoring the heat of his palm against yours, the strength as he closes his fingers around your hand, the firmness of his handshake. Even more than that, you feel that embedded spark in your chest flare up when Johnny’s eyes light up and he grins when you tell him your name.

“It’s nice to meet you.” He releases your hand, and you’re loath to let go, but you reluctantly let your hand fall back to your side. “Although, I feel like we’ve seen each other before.”

“Oh my god,” slips out before you realize it, and as soon as you realize you actually said that aloud, you cover your mouth with your hand. “I’m sorry, Mr. Suh. I just… I’ve seen you once before, at the New Years Eve ceremony. We, like, made eye contact, so I didn’t imagine that you would recognize me.”

Johnny’s mouth twists with barely suppressed amusement. “I have a good memory for faces and names. I won’t forget yours now.”

Bitter wind cuts through the bubble Johnny’s created around you both, and you shiver. Johnny frowns, looking away from you to scan the street.

“There’s definitely something strange about this weather,” Johnny remarks. “I understand why the weathermen have sought my attention. Someone Is tampering with the typical weather patterns, there’s a signature in this storm. Definitely something magical to be able to cut through my ward.”

“It blew straight through my heating spell,” you confess, trying not to feel small beside Johnny.

A contemplative look crosses his face. “Where are you headed?” Johnny asks, still looking like he’s thinking deeply about something.

“I’m on my way home.” And you’re not looking forward to stepping back out into the cold.

As if Johnny can read your mind, his attention snaps to you, and he offers, “I can walk you the rest of the way there.” He offers you his arm, and he says, “I can keep you warm.”

Heat floods you at the double meaning behind his words, but you gratefully accept Johnny’s arm.

To your delight and fascination, Johnny flirts with you the next two blocks, his presence providing you with protection from the cold, the wind, and the snow. You know he’s got a reputation for being a great party boy, but you wonder if he’s a notorious playboy too, if he’s walking you home with the intention of bedding you tonight.

Not that you would object to that.

Johnny walks you up to the door of Kun’s apartment, his hands brushing your back, your arms, and he’s all smiles and charm. And when you reach the door, as you press your key into the lock, Johnny stands right behind you. He’s got one hand on the edge of the doorway, and when you twist around to look at him, he only grins and leans in.

Feeling bold, you grab the front of his shirt, and you drag him the rest of the way in.

Johnny pins you between his body and the door, his mouth ravishing yours. You place your hand on the back of his neck, twist your fingers through his long hair.

“Please come inside,” you murmur into the kiss. With your free hand, you fumble for the doorknob. “Just, um, just give me one second to dismantle my roommate’s protective enchantments.”

Johnny distractingly keeps kissing and touching whatever parts of you he can as you stand there, unraveling Kun’s protections on the apartment, until the last of them snaps away, leaving the path clear for you to drag Johnny inside.

You hope he doesn’t mind that this apartment is small and not totally tidy. It’s not a mess by any means, but you’ve been sleeping on the pull out sofa bed. And since you've moved out of your apartment, and this is your temporary place, your boxes are everywhere. You have an open box sitting halfway between the kitchen and the bathroom, piled high with laundry. And the sofa bed is unmade from when you’d flown out of it this morning, running late for work.

Johnny probably doesn’t even look around. As soon as you’ve shut the door behind you both, he starts to reel you in again, starts to pull you away from the door, but you press against his chest.

“Wait, I need to put them back together.” You won’t feel safe unless you’ve got all the enchantments up; it would be like leaving the door unlocked.

“I’ve got it.” Johnny waves his hand. You can see the thin silver and gold threads of magic lacing back together around the perimeter of the apartment, a few extra layers of protection that weren’t there before, all of them brighter and stronger than the ones that Kun had.

You’re still gazing at them in awe when Johnny cups your cheek, when he brushes his lips against yours once more, backing you through the living room. He waves his hand again, and a fire springs to life in the fireplace Kun never uses (probably because this is an old ass apartment building whose ancient chimneys shouldn’t be used anymore). Another flick of his fingers, and among the built-ins that line one wall of the room, the stereo system kicks on, softly playing music.

“Wait,” you murmur even as you’re sinking down onto the unmade sofa bed. “How are you doing all of this? Where’s your wand?”

Is he doing wandless magic? Casting without anything to channel his power?

Johnny grins, standing there above you. “Do you want to see my wand, angel?”

Fuck, does he think you meant that in a sexy way? Well, now that he’s said that, you do want to see his wand, but you also actually want to see his wand. Doesn’t he have one?’

When Johnny tucks his thumb into the waistband of his pants, you decide you can hold off on answers about his wandless magic until a later date. For now, you just want to see whatever he’ll show you.

“Can I see your wand, Johnny?” You perch on the edge of the sofa bed, legs spread enough that Johnny can stand between them. You tilt your head back, looking up at him. “You’re so powerful, I bet your wand has got to be huge.”

He smirks.

With a snap of his fingers, Johnny’s pants come undone – unbuttoned, unzipped, pulled down just enough that his large cock can spring out.

Maybe his wand truly is magical because one look at it, and all rationality flies from your head. You become single-minded, all thoughts other than desire are erased, just a single horny braincell bouncing around inside your mind.

You just want to worship his cock, to kiss and lick and touch and suck. You want to make him cum, to see him shooting from the tip. You wonder if even his cum holds a bit of his power, if tasting it will get you one step closer to being where he is.

He truly is sporting a huge dick. He’s long at probably seven inches, wide enough around that you know it won’t take much to get your jaw aching, and you might as well use both hands on him. And if you get the chance to take his cock inside you, you know it’s going to be such a stretch, that he’s going to hit so deep inside you, you’ll be feeling it for a week. But despite that – or maybe because of that – you want him even more.

“Go on, angel,” Johnny says, placing his hand on your head and nudging you forward. “You can touch.”

“I’ve never seen a wand like this,” you tease, lifting one hand to touch. You brush your fingertips along the underside of his cock. “I’m not so sure I know what to do with it, how to handle it.” You cast a look up at his face.

Johnny’s hungry gaze rests on your lips. “Should I show you, teach you?”

You nod. “Well, you’re the all-powerful High Warlock of the city, who better to show me how to handle a wand than you, sir?”

Johnny groans, “You’re gonna give me the biggest head, stroking my ego like that, angel.”

“Is your ego all that I’m supposed to stroke?” You again glide your fingers along his cock, from base to tip, swirling your finger around his tip once before you pull your hand back down to your lap. “Can you show me how to handle your wand, please?”

Johnny doesn’t say another word, just spits into his hand before reaching down to curl his hand around his cock. He strokes his hand along his length, and you watch from up close, your mouth watering with the need to have him buried down your throat. You won’t be able to take him all the way, not at first anyway, so you’re already planning how you’re going to use your hands on him too, jerking him off into your mouth while you suck at the tip, how it’ll feel to have him gushing over your tongue.

“Johnny,” you whimper involuntarily.

“Here, angel. You try.” His hand falls away, and you watch as his cock bobs, ready for more. His hands grab for both of yours, pulling your hands up so both of them are on his cock. “Come on, just like I was just doing. This wand works best if you use both hands.”

You swear Johnny shudders when you lean in and lick at the salty bead of precum at his slit, and then he definitely shivers when you curl one hand at the base of his cock, using the other to stroke up from there, and you suck the head of his cock into your mouth, tongue flicking at the slit. His hand slides to the back of your head, and when he applies gentle pressure, sinking your mouth around him, you just take it, still stroking at what you haven’t yet taken in your mouth.

“Good girl,” Johnny praises you. “A quick learner for sure.”

You pull back against his hand on the back of your head, just enough to be able to breathe, and then you’re back on him, sucking at the tip, tongue stroking just beneath the tip, your hands covering the rest. Salty blurts of precum stain the back of your tongue, but you love the taste, love the thrill of power you feel as Johnny moans and rakes his fingers through your hair. You chance a look up at him through your eyelashes, and Johnny has his head bowed to watch you, his hair hanging loose in front of his face.

Again, you pull off, bringing your left hand up to the tip while your right keeps stroking the shaft.

“Your cock is so big, Johnny. God, is there any part of you that’s not perfect?” You dip in to lick at the slit between your fingers. “I really want to work some magic with you, using your wand to make us both achieve something absolutely, truly spectacular.”

You shift against the bed, seeking friction for yourself because your pussy is throbbing, so wet that your panties are sticking to you.

Johnny strokes your hair. “I’m so glad I ran into you out there. Keep going, angel.” And then his fingers are braiding through your hair at the back of your head, pushing your mouth back down around his length, going and going until your lips meet your fingers at the base of his cock, and you’re gagging as Johnny’s tip pushes past your limit.

His hips rock, thrusting shallowly down your throat, just enough to trigger your gag reflex again.

Your eyes water, but you’re loving every second of this, giving his cock the perfect throat to fuck, you loosen your jaw and let Johnny use your throat, let him bruise your lips as he starts moving faster, and when he pulls you off with his fingers knotted in your hair, you’ve only got a few second to gasp in raw breaths before he’s bringing your lips back to his cock.

“I love it, Johnny. More!” You beg, brushing your lips down the length of him, along the sides. You bring one hand up to stroke your fingers along the opposite side as you run your lips and tongue along his cock. You draw back to the tip, flicking your tongue to gather the beads of precum on your tongue. “So good, Johnny. Your cock is just perfect.”

You scatter kisses over the sensitive flesh, trace a prominent vein with your tongue, you take just the tip between your lips, flicking your tongue beneath the tip in a way that has Johnny bucking forward just a little but no more even though both hands are buried in your hair.

You put your all into worshipping his handsome cock, his oh-so magical wand.

You just want his cum coating your tongue.

“Stop.” Johnny drags you off of him, casting you backwards so your shoulders hit the sofa bed’s thin mattress. He towers above you, cast in tangerine light by the fire flickering in the grate. He looks all-powerful and terrifying and so incredibly sexy right then.

“Do you want me, angel? Really, really want me?” Johnny asks, lowering himself over you, holding himself above you with his fists on either side of your shoulders.

“I told you already, I want to work some spectacular magic with you and your wand.” You reach for him, for his hair. Johnny’s eyes flash when your nails drag along his scalp. “In case the metaphor isn’t clear enough consent for you, sir, I want you to fuck me.”

That’s exactly what Johnny was waiting for.

He snaps his fingers, and you gasp when you realize that there’s a startling breeze over all your bare skin. Johnny vanished your clothes, and you now lie nude beneath him, who is also now nude, having vanished his own clothes as well.

“Can I show you a magic trick, angel? I think you’ll really like this one.” Johnny kneels up above you, his cock standing out between his legs, heavy and perfect.

“Show me, please,” you beg, squirming beneath him, needing to be touched.

Johnny grins, and he parts your thighs, reaching with one hand between them. His fingers are warm and just right when he touches you, stroking over your clit to draw a whimper from you, then down to your pussy.

“Fuck, Johnny. Magical fingers as well as your cock.” Your hand flies to his wrist, feeling the flexing tendons as he fucks two fingers inside you.

“Oh, this isn’t the trick, my dear.” Johnny grinds his palm against your clit, fingers as deep as he can get them, stroking over that sweet spot inside you. It’s amazing how he keeps such an even pace considering that he’s wrapped his other hand around his cock, jerking himself off while he touches you. You know you’ve got to be leaking around his fingers, so wet for him as you watch his hand on his cock.

He keeps going, fingering you while he touches himself, and you can feel the swirling tension in your belly, the tight curl of pleasure growing and growing until finally it bursts, sparking through your body as you climax around his fingers. Johnny doesn’t stop.

“That’s right, angel. Cum for me.” His fingers curl inside you, and stars spin above you as you try to focus on Johnny’s face. “Show me that you can handle this before I give you the real magic.”

You arch off the bed, reaching the ultimate peak of your climax. Your chest heaves with each breath, and Johnny pulls his hand away from between your thighs, bringing it down to his cock.

“Ready for the big event, angel?” Johnny asks. “The main magic trick of the evening?”

You nod, biting at your bottom lip while you watch him.

“See this?” He asks, signaling to you that he means his cock. “I’m going to make it disappear, and you’re going to help me with that.”

If you weren’t so turned on, that line might have made you laugh, but as it is, you’re incredibly turned on despite that orgasm just moments ago, you’re desperate to have him inside you.

“Show me, Johnny.” You need it.

Johnny presses into you slowly, as if he’s aware that he’s huge and you’re very sensitive after that orgasm. Or, maybe he’s just really wanting to watch the way that his cock disappears as he sinks into you, your pussy greedily swallowing him.

You cry out when Johnny’s patience breaks, and he thrusts in the last bit. He’s so fucking deep, and it feels so damn good. You never could’ve imagined how this would feel, not with him; it’s truly magical. Every inch of you is tingling like he’s spelled you to be extra sensitive to his touch – his cock inside you, the knock of his legs against yours, his chest brushing your tits, the soft way his lips trace your jaw and lips, his hair tickling your cheeks – and it’s driving you insane.

You move with Johnny, twisted together, bodies connecting again and again, his cock driving into you while you moan his name and spout praises about his cock. You’re not even sure what all you’re saying, only that it’s working on Johnny, pushing him to thrust harder, causing him to laugh at one point when he drops his mouth to a sensitive spot high on your throat beneath your ear.

Johnny brings you to orgasm again on his cock, and you’re elevated above Cloud Nine, soaring high on an endless wave of pleasure while Johnny keeps rolling his hips forward, pressing into you again and again.

“Come on Johnny, you too. Cum for me,” you beg, dragging your nails over his shoulders and down his chest.

“Shit!” He hisses when your nails pass over his nipples, his cock throbbing inside you. “Almost there.”

So, you flick your fingernails over his nipples again, curious if that’ll do the trick.

Johnny pulls out, jolting up towards your face. His hand is in your hair, but you’re already moving too, lifting your head and opening your mouth to take in his cock once more.

Your left hand flies to Johnny’s shaft, your lips wrap around the head, and immediately he cums.

His semen floods across your tongue, and you swear you taste power in it as you swallow down everything he gives you. You bob your head, sucking at the tip, stroking his shaft with your hand, taking everything Johnny has to offer.

When he’s gone soft on your tongue, you pull off with a pop, sinking back down onto the sofa bed. Johnny slumps down beside you, draping an arm and a leg over you, and he’s still got one hand tangled in your hair.

“That was amazing,” Johnny sighs. “I haven’t had sex like that in a long time. Mind-blowing.”

A rush of satisfaction at the praise settles in your bones. “And to think, I was just genuinely asking you about your actual wand. But I suppose you do wandless magic?”

Johnny’s eyes are closed, but he smiles. “Yeah. I do have a wand, though, somewhere in my apartment, but my magic outgrew the wand like a decade ago. If you really want to see it, I can show you sometime.”

You twist around to lie on your side facing him. “Do you mean it?”

Johnny hums in confirmation. “Sure. When I’m back to feeling like I’m on this plane of existence, I’ll give you my number. You’ll have to come over sometime so I can fuck you in a real bed. What even is this?”

You push at his shoulder. “I should’ve known the High Warlock would be snobby about where he has sex. This is a sofa bed, Mr. Suh. I’m just staying here in my friend’s apartment temporarily while I’m between places and while he’s out of town.”

Johnny purses his lips and peeks at you. “Like I said, I’ll give you my number, and you can come sleep in a real bed with me, or else the closest you'll get to having me in this bed again will be phone sex while you’re lying in this.”

But despite all his talk of hating your sofa bed, Johnny the High Warlock of Chicago doesn’t budge from your bed that night or until late the following morning, by which point the city is shut down by the record-breaking snowfall from the late-March blizzard that blew through in the night, and oh-so-unfortunately you and Johnny are trapped together in the apartment with nothing to occupy your time but magic tricks and his magical dick.

a/n: day 3 is done although it took me longer than I thought it would, and I feel like I kinda left part of it unfinished, but who knows maybe a sequel will be in the works later!

Reblogs are deserving of my eternal gratitude, likes are greatly appreciated, and your thoughts and comments are always welcome !

#johnny suh #nct #nct 127 #johnny smut #nct smut #nct 127 smut

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jokeroutsubs · 1 year ago

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[ENG translation] Joker Out, the kings of charisma, conquer Europe: "What's happening is incredible!"

Interview with Bojan and Jure. The original article was written by Alma Rahne for Metropolitan, it was published on 29.12.2023. English translation by @varianestoroff, proof read by a member of JokerOutSubs.

Photo: Dean Grainger

Travel to the other side of the world, learn Slovene and queue for the concert from 7 am. The fans are willing to do all this for them. If 2023 was a year of overachievement for Joker Out, get ready for the new wave coming in 2024.

It's been a very successful year for the boys, if not the best year yet. With their Eurovision performance, watched by around 200 million people worldwide, their musical fairytale has begun.

Although they ended up in 21st place, undeserved according to many, they put their joker* to good use. But they have left their mark on Europe, as Eurovision fans voted them kings of charisma just a few days ago.

*The Joker is a playing card found in most modern French-suited card decks, as an addition to the standard four suits. It often acts as a wild card (a card that may be used to represent another card or cards). Here, the journalist creates a pun based on the value of the card and the name of the band.

In life, as with cards, sometimes you have to take risks to win. And Joker Out are definitely the winners, having achieved more out of their 3-minute Eurovision performance than they might have dared to dream of in the first place.

A few days ago, the boys successfully ended their first European tour, where their fans sang out loud in Slovene and started learning the language because of them. It sounds unbelievable, but that's what they achieved this year. Every time we meet - whether for interviews, backstage at gigs or on the street - I notice that despite all their achievements over the last year, they are down to Earth and true to themselves and really enjoy what they do.

Photo: Instagram/Joker Out/Mark Pirc/Vita Orehek

I would dare to say that they are currently the only band in Slovenia that proves that they can break boundaries and impress abroad with their authenticity, perseverance and singing in Slovene. With his consent, I'm going to borrow the words of the fellow journalist Gašper Završnik, a correspondent of Delo in Madrid, who was also at their December concert. He described his impressions and their performance by saying, "Joker Out are to Slovene what the Cervantes Institute* is to Spanish." He later told me that he could not remember such euphoria about a foreign band in Spain.

*The Cervantes Institute is a public cultural institution created with the aim of promoting and teaching the Spanish language and disseminating Spanish and Hispanic culture.

With New Year just around the corner, it's only right to look back and see first-hand how Bojan Cvjetićanin and Jure Maček, members of Joker Out, spent 2023. Before they and the other members Kris Guštin, Jan Peteh and Nace Jordan perform in front of the Slovenian audience for the last time this year on Saturday the 30th of December at Kongresni trg, in this interview they revealed their plans for 2024, talked about life on tour and gave details of their new upcoming single.

How would you describe the year behind you?

Jure: We collected a lot of miles by buying so many plane tickets. We had lots of flights, Bojan would say it was very turbulent. But for me it was quite a hard year.

Bojan: I would say a perfect year. We really seized it to the fullest. I think we have milked 2023 dry. We have done everything, we have really put everything we have in us. We have given every last inch of ourselves, but we have also taken everything we could.

Photo: Vita Orehek

Since you devoted yourselves especially to music and your career, was there any field in which you weren't the best?

Bojan: My garden bed fell apart.

Jure: I don't have a girlfriend.

Bojan: Neither do I. (laughs) We don't have a girlfriend, we don't have money...

Jure: We see our family more rarely.

Bojan: See, a great year. (laughs)

Jure Maček, photo by Mediaspeed/Sandi Fišer

Bojan, you mentioned that your biggest goal was to perform at the Sziget festival, which you will do next year. What's next, will you set a new goal?

I told myself that I didn't want new goals to determine success. Let's say, we always had in the back of our minds that this is something that happens and means success. We always saw Sziget as, "You really succeed when you perform on the main stage at Sziget." For us (Jokers) it's the most legendary festival in Europe. And once we conquer that, as far as I'm concerned, there are no more goals that determine success. For me, it's all a plus after that and I want us to make new music, have a good time and enjoy it. Like we are now, with the new single. Every time we record a new song we're going to be happy, listen to it, play it a thousand times and call each other to say how good it is. That's all I want.

Have you ever been to Sziget?

Jure: No, never.

Bojan: Unfortunately not, I had everything ready to go twice. Once I got sick, and the other time we had a concert the day before.

Jan Peteh, photo by Mediaspeed/Borut Cvetko

What do you do when a Joker Out concert coincides with something else you've been wanting to visit or see for a while? Career probably has priority... Is there a bitter aftertaste that night at the concert?

Bojan: Let's not lie to ourselves. It depends on the gig. If it's something that you would love to miss, but you have to do it because it's the whole band's business, not your own, then you might go on stage with a bitter aftertaste.

Jure: We just had a concert in Celje and at the same time my former band Čedahuči had a concert in Kino Šiška. I really wanted to go, but it didn't work out.

Bojan: It really hurts then, but what can you do, that's just the way it is. But it was a great concert in Celje. I got sick, I was on stage with a fever. I would have liked to lie at home, but in the end the concert healed me. I sweated there, I excercised a little and I changed my mindset. I woke up the next day 200 times better.

You've just finished recording a new single. What can you reveal?

Jure: We can say that it is a ballad.I think I can feel it the most out of the all songs so far.

Bojan: I would say it's the most different so far. Maybe as a songwriter I put myself out there most directly, it's quite a therapeutic song.

Where did the inspiration come from?

Bojan: At the end of July, things started happening and inspired me to write this song. The lyrics didn't take long to develop. I wrote the main part when we were in the studio recording the English single 'Sunny Side of London'. That's when this 'jam' happened, which we took as the basis for the song. I had already written the lyrics for the verses and the chorus... I can reveal that the song will be in English (smiles).

Bojan Cvjetićanin, photo by Profimedia

How do you approach songwriting? With the aim of making it a hit?

Jure: No, we all just have to feel the song. That's the most important thing.

Bojan: I think the release of the upcoming single is very brave for a band in our position. Because it's quite possible that it won't be a hit at all. The song is really different... but if people feel the song the way we did, it could be our biggest hit. We really didn't play the 'certainty card'.

Have you ever thought about writing a song using ChatGPT*?

Bojan: No, but we have tested how it works.

*ChatGPT is a chatbot based on artificial intelligence and machine learning, developed by OpenAI and specialised in conversation with a human user.

Fans bring different banners to your concerts, which they make themselves. Is there a sign that you remember the most?

Jure: I'm the furthest away from the audience and I see the least of them (laughs). I don't remember any in particular at the moment. But I have to say that they are really original.

Bojan: They're really sick, because they're so indecent (laughs). I often times couldn't stop myself from laughing in the middle of singing, thinking, 'who thought of that?' But it's really sick, because they hold it up for an hour and wait for me to read it.

Jure: And the people behind them are shouting at them and asking them to move it, because it's blocking their view of the stage (laughs).

Bojan: I think the one that got my attention the most was in Rijeka: "Bojan, why did you invite so many people to our date?" They can be really creative.

Nace Jordan, photo by Profimedia

A fellow journalist from Delo attended your concert in Madrid at the beginning of December and wrote on social media: Joker Out is to Slovene what the Cervantes Institute is to Spanish. Those of us who are involved, connected with Spanish, know that this is a great compliment. Any comment?

Bojan: I saw what he wrote, and as I am also a bit involved with Spanish (smiles), I was very honoured that it came out of his mouth. The concert in Madrid was really excellent. It was an explosion of energy that can only happen by accident, and I am glad that he was at that concert. In fact, what is happening is incredible. We go around Europe and people sing in Slovene for an hour and a half. That is probably something that has never happened before. They are learning phrases in Slovene so that they can say them to us. They bring us textbooks and dictionaries to sign.

Do you feel that you have such a big influence on your fans? Did you ever imagine that your fans would learn Slovene because of you?

Jure: That's so weird. It's like being in a bubble all the time.

Bojan: We are not personifying these people. On stage, we are ourselves, but still an acquaintance. There I am Bojan Cvjetićanin for them, but for myself I am Bojč. I am Bojč when none of the band members take me seriously. Or when they flip me off if I say something stupid. (smiles) When I get home, though, I'm the same Bojč that I was when I was 10 years old. I don't think you can understand that, which is fine. Thank God... I'm still myself on stage, just in a different role.

What is the hardest part of touring?

Jure: Just the journey, the means of transportation - planes.

Bojan: Getting sick.

What is a typical day like for you when you are on tour?

Jure: After the concert we go straight to the hotel, shower and sleep as soon as possible. Around 2am we fall asleep, and between 4am and 5am we're awake because we have a flight to catch. We have to be at the airport at 7, we have a flight at 8 and we are in the next city, the next country, by 11. Then we go to the concert venue, we get there between 1 and 2 pm. From 2 to 4 we are free, then we go to the hotel to rest a little. Our technicians have it worse, because they start preparing the stage, the sound system. Between 4 and 5 there is the sound check, dinner at 6 and the concert at 8. And the next day we repeat it again. (Smiles)

What about on the tour bus?

Jure: You have your own home on the bus. The day looks similar, except that we shower after the concert backstage and get on the bus when we want, fall asleep and wake up when we want. That is the main difference. Because you're driving overnight and you usually get to the next town at 10 o'clock, wake up, look out the window and you're somewhere else.

Bojan: Usually the tour bus is parked outside the concert venue.

Are your most passionate fans waiting for you outside the bus?

Bojan: That too. Last time I woke up at seven to go to the toilet and look out the window. We had just come from Wroclaw to Poznan and there were 50 people outside and I was still dizzy (laughs).

Jure: It's much easier to travel by bus. When I came back from Poland after a 10-day tour in a tour bus, I joked that I came back so fresh that I could come home at 10 o'clock and say, "Mother, what can I do today?"(Smiles).

Kris Guštin, photo by Profimedia

In your experience, what contributes more to success: talent or hard work?

Bojan: Neither. But many people have gone very far with hard work, even if they didn't have much talent. I would say that hard work is important and surrounding yourself with people who have talent and want the best for you. If you don't have talent yourself.

With the New Year, you are going abroad. What is the main purpose, what will you be doing?

Jure: We're moving to London for two months at the beginning of January. We've rented a house and a garage there, where we'll work and rehearse the new songs. Then in March we go on a European tour for a month. We'll be home for the holidays and then we're going back to England. In mid-April we're going to Germany for a month in the studio and we hope to record the album by mid-May. And then the festival season, the album release and everything that follows.

Bojan: Then soon Merry Christmas and Happy New Year (laughs).

Photo by Vita Orehek

#joker out #bojan cvjetićanin #jure maček

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the-clay-quarters · 7 months ago

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Okay this took me three days bcus I spent Way too long thinking about it but! here's my guys in @t6fs' template!

The only bit of this that was left blank for non character reasons is the dreams- I avoid all the dream cards in game to avoid nightmares, so I don't really know the vibes oops. Oh, and the key items are distinctive things they carry regularly, excluding things they'd own at home. Otherwise, detail bits under the cut! I ended up with a lot of notes and wanted to ramble, it's really fuckin long <3

Silverstein

"His" pet is Pembroke's Half-Wild Mandrake (from bag a legend). They both agree that it is still hers, it's just hard to take care of in the middle of the city so it lives out with him. Otherwise, he keeps no pets.

Apathetic but also opinionated: On most things, he's very apathetic, simply agreeing with other people's decisions. On the other hand, though, he is strongly revolutionary and aiming for a lot of change... Not that he'd tell you that, not that you should know.

Dreams: It's canon that clay men can't dream :( No rights

Habitat: He likes being out and about, he spends most of his day out in the streets. He does a lot of "low skill" but high strength work, like moving services or construction.

Both hot/cold and coffee/tea are Neither for clay man reasons: Very high and cold temperatures cause him issues in different, equally annoying ways, and he can't eat/taste either, so no preference on food or drink.

Items: The gloves are clay stained, actually, and primarily on the inside. He started collecting first city coins for heart's desire and just has a habit of keeping some on him now. Horse head amulet... fear of death and uncertainty about the particulars of clay men :)

Flower, white rose: Did you know all the funky coloured roses (ie blue or rainbow) are made by dying white ones? :)c

Animal, saint bernard: Big but fairly gentle and lazy, would be a guard dog if asked but is mostly content to just sit

Element, rock slide: Change! Upheaval! Rocks :3

Pembroke:

The pet is her hunting dog, lovely lil thing <3 She doesn't keep many pets as she's a very busy person (and wouldn't want to put that on her poor housekeeper) but a good dog is always useful.

Rude-polite range is because she defaults to, and is usually, quite polite but often is also overcome with the need to be an absolute lil shit. Duality of man <3

Lodgings: Rooms above an ex-bookshop, now her tailoring shop!

Enemies: See: habit of being a chaotic lil shit. Apparently people don't like it when you think their party is too boring and try to spice it up smh

Items: A wedding ring with no match. A pocket watch to keep a tight schedule. A weapon of some sort, picked from a diverse collection. A travel sewing kit for rogue buttons and popped stitches. A hat pin, back up weapon :)

Flower, green dahlia: .......This one's mostly a pun off of Delia ngl

Animal, borzoi: Fancy and elegant looking, but still a hunting dog. Pretty but vicious~

Vincent:

The pet listed is a frost-moth but they have so. many. bugs. The phosphorescent scarabs are also pets. They have spiders. They keep any and every type of bug to either study or have as a pet. Please never visit their flat if you don't like bugs.

Gender: Bureaucratic misunderstanding. They filled out various forms wrong when they were first travelling to the neath, rolled with the neutral pronouns, realised they like it more than they probably should, and simply refused to think about that at all

Logic-emotion range is them trying to lead with logic but also having high anxiety

Lawful-chaotic and apathetic-opinionated are also anxiety, honestly. Though, for the latter, they are just quiet about their more out-there opinions, especially in the realm of politics. It's a culture thing kinda sorta, if I get into that here it'll add like 3 paragraphs at least.

Cultural identity: Catalan! Very proud of that! But won't default to that and will usually say they're Spanish. I can't get into that for the exact same reasons as the last point oops

Allies: This guy ☝ is depressed and isolating themself

Remember vs forget: When you're this far from home, your culture comes just from your own memories that you can't afford to lose. But also fuck wouldn't it be nice to simply forget the things causing you anxiety.

Items: Big round glasses to counter their shortsightedness. Bugs. Anti spider goggles that aren't prescription, both because they were originally lent and because they don't usually need to see very far with them on. Catholic rosary, worn under their shirt. Bugs. Surface currency, specifically Spanish pesetas, sent from their parents. Bugs. Bugs. More bugs.

Flower, forget me nots: Blue, anxiety coded, pretty <3

Animal, mantis: Awkward looking, vibes <3 Also, specifically hierodula papua bcus it's blue!

#fallen london oc #oc: flint silverstein #oc: cordelia/theodore pembroke #oc: vincent bell

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who1ssheesh · 10 months ago

Note

NSFW with s/o and squalo??👀

Squalo NSFW Headcanons

Notes: Yes. Just yes. Actually these are nastier than Xanxus ones (oh look, someone is getting comfortable here, dirtiest kinks when???? (please ask please))

Warnings: minors do not interact obviously, not proofread at all, brief mentions of anal and pegging (if you don’t like idk…..)

• Hey listen, he’s actually 10/10 and really attentive when needed

• But still feelings are a turn off for him, and I mean it. Unlike Xanxus, Squalo is a beta male loser, he can get really confused with love-bombing and all that sappy stuff. Like…..he already hates this in a regular setting, and in sex it’s a cringefest for him.

• HuGE on getting praised. You better keep going about how good he is, I think he can cim undone only from this. What an egomaniac mf

• Probably has oral fixation both giving and receiving. A thick layer of lip gloss can make him hard, no jokes. If you ever get an idea of getting your lips injected, Squalo would be interested way more that he should be. (Don’t get me wrong, he like any lips as long as they’re yours)

• Just use a lip plumper for a 100% sex, works as a terraria boss summon 💀💀💀

• If you ever suck him off under his desk while he works, Squalo will never let it down, he thinks that was hot for some reason

• He is a sucker (pun intended idk) for oral himself, can some HOURS between your legs to the point you start crying. And he still doesn’t stop

• There is a lot of “over-” with Squalo, overstimulation included. He is going to make sure no one ever can compare to him

• Actually a point for crying while having sex. Maybe you’ll notice you are becoming a little of a crybaby since your tears turn him on oh so much.

• Having passionate sex with you crying right after a nasty fight and him whispering praise and apologies on you ear is a very hot-hot scenario for Squalo, but he will never tell you this because of course

• He actually doesn’t have that much experience (especially with his kinks lol he is a bit shy with those) and because of that is nervous a bit, but exploring his preference is a nice adventure, you can tell just be the look on Squalo’s Face if he likes something a lot

• Hey hear me out…As much as he likes to fuck the brain out of you, you can…..do the same in return. Squalo actually doesn’t know he needs this, but you overstimulating him to the point of eye-rolling is a heavenly experience + idk what about you, I would cum just from seeing THAT face on him omg

• I’m pretty sure, he has some nasty kinks in his sleeve to the point he just won’t tell you. Something like a wild card idk.

• First of all, let’s get it out, he is orientation-confused.

• Squalo probs fantasized about threesome with someone (let’s say Dino, why not?), which goes both ways

• Once was way too drunk and had a thought of threesome with you and Xanxus, still twitches in horror remembering this. Just a fun fact lol

• He COULD be up for pegging, at least trying. He doesn’t like the idea of being sub at all. Squalo can like the experience actually, but still being the bottom icks with him and he will be bitching about it

• Holy shit, he is risky too much (what else being expected from someone THIS self-assured). In general, you having vibrators in public inside of you can be a common practice for you two. Also is anyone ever calls you, he makes you pick the phone and thrusts much harder into you, good like with that lol

• His cock is average in girth, but is long, can touch you soul istg

• The idea of having sex while someone watches might be also in his head?

• Not opposed to anal. Not like a kink, but like doesn’t see a difference between vaginal and anal, pick what you prefer 💀

• Unexpected, but he doesn’t like hair-pulling. Xanxus does that a lot when posted, and Squalo has very bad associations with that. But touching his scalp or massaging while he is eating you out he loves a lot

• Squalo is still a beta loser, he occasionally likes slow passionate sex, you can even say something sappy meanwhile

• Doesn’t like role-playing at all, cause likes experience and feelings be sincere, but does enjoy lingerie

• Also can be into clothed sex? Squalo goes feral seeing you disheveled and dress lifted up just in the fight spots. Or him being fully clothed while you being naked

• Thigh riding pretty please :) More of a way of you begging for his cock, seeing you desperate is hot

• He likes blood, I headcanon, cause well…shark….Squalo…

• I’m not talking about biting (well, not ONLY, cause your thighs are going to ache from his bites), im taking about period sex. Yeah I’m disgusting and???? You are too 💀💀💀

• Whisper in his ear what you want to do to his or vice versa. The things he can say to you even while being in public can turn your head around. He can also tell about some random fantasy if something triggers one

• He DOES want you to become a swordsman, maybe I’ve said that before but I don’t remember if you ever are interested, you are doomed for life. You think Squalo wants a shared hobby? lol no you nerd, he just wants to ram you into the floor right after the training session right there with your swords lying around

• If you ever have a hung body, Squalo will feel guilty, you can trick him into giving you a massage (and he’s good in this) but no guarantee his hands won’t travel into wrong places. Wink wink

• His hands deserve their own headcanons: slim, long and dexterous (he is good at tinkering with his mechanisms), also his metallic hand can be a different experience as a whole

• Can fall into a bdsm pit. He haven’t thought about it much prior, but if you’re an enjoyer, Squalo picks it up as well and has a lot of fun with this. It all started with tying you up but here we are………..

• + blindfolding added to this. You not expecting what Squalo has in mind turns him on

• Likes when you use your hands on him (interpret in any way you want 💀 but im talking about handjob mainly). Even you having your hands on his chest while riding him is good enough

• Squalo likes feminine slender hands and is a huge sucker for long nails. Scratch his back as much as you like, he doesn’t mind

• Getting back to oral fixation - he will make you suck his fingers often

• Squalo likes direct the most uncomfortable eye-contact while he thrusts into you. Or even eats you out, idk. He will grab your neck if needed, and his wild eyes make you wet tbh

• Likes choking, on himself also

• Squalo is very vocal in bed, did you expect anything else lol? He usually tries to be silent (and you can tell) but if you duck the souls out of him then holy shit is he loud

• Also likes you being loud and expressing how he makes you feel. If you are the silent type, Squalo has another type of enjoyment making you scream, no less

• Ass man but can’t get past boobs. Why take one if you can have both?? In all seriousness, he likes more your chest as a whole, collarbones infatuate him + takes another enjoyment in nipples, he will suck and nip them a lot. Even can Maggie your breast without a sexual intention, Squalo just likes them

• His nipples are sensitive btw, you can have some revenge

• Now back to ass man. You better be careful with wearing tight pants 💀 Everything that attaches to it ( → thighs for example) Squalo likes equally. Thighfucking maybe?? Question mark??

• Squalo can possibly have wicked fun spanking you and making you count every slap. Starts all over again if you stutter

• Compared to Xanxus he is much more fun tbh in a way of being adventurous and pretty trouble-free about any idea you have. If you open somehow his the most wicked kinks, you won’t find the same fucked in a head man ever again lol. Unique experience would recommend

#khr headcanons #khr imagines #khr x reader #varia x reader #katekyo hitman reborn #squalo x reader #khr smut

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kassandrasdisciple · 4 months ago

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~~~Joker: Folie à Deux Spoilers ~~~

This is hideously long, I am so sorry.

Housekeeping

I really wanted to like this Movie, I saw the first one and was sufficiently whelmed; it was certainly a movie. However when trailers came round for Joker 2 and it was starring Gaga in a musical I was hyped, she's known for her brand of choreo dancing and out-there outfits, so i thought she'd be at home in this dancing clown's world.

Furthermore Harley might patch my biggest gripe with any Joker origin story which is that they miss the point. Joker was made as a formula break. Batman, the world's greatest detective, would fight the ecoterroist, the man who loves his wife and the catburglar with facts and logic™ but the Joker was a wild card (pun intended). He was used sparingly because he had no motive other than Chaos and he was uniquely only interested in Batman, not riches or love. However for this to work he has basically no backstory, he's just the clown prince of crime, you undercut this character by weiting a backstory, and that was my biggest issue with Joker I.

The way writers have gotten around this however is by making him interesting by proxy, and they usually use Harley. We don't know much about Joker from the animated series but we do know alot about him in how he treats Harley. As such, I thought introducing her to the second movie could allow for them to remove so much focus of Arthur's backstory and inner thoughts and start building him up into the Joker of myth, filtered through Harleys eyes.

However none of this actually happened; infact so little happened I have to ask you all to watch this movie so you don't accuse me of misrepresenting this train wreck. I usually give any non-Indie project some leeway as it's easy to walk back an indie project and only waste 100 dollars vs in a multimillion project, No one wants to tell the boss you need to start from scratch and waste 10 mill, now in this case? I would've watched the final product as an executive and said scrap it all, and then fired the writers that I'd accuse of using AI. With that let's get into it.

The Good

This is gonna be meanly short but I really tried.

Makeup & costume

This was phenomenal and I don't even say that in pity to bulk the good section, I'd genuinely say this surpasses most films and shows. The costumes looked properly dulled or muddy, most looked fitted for the actors and although I'm not a historical costumer they seemed to fit? Joker firmly breaks from the current trend of fresh of the line clothes that look costumey and captures a city on the brink.

Makeup is also beautiful and this is a production for the craft to shine in, both Phoneix and Gaga are made up perfectly depending on the scene, juggling Glam, Weariness and Clown-core beautifully. I also loved the story of Gaga's clown makeup, with her slowly gaining more with each musical break from reality. However I will say I dislike they didn't go full face like Phoneix had, does feel slightly like they refused to de-feminise Gaga.

Cinematography & Sets

Also beautiful, I will preface that within the narrative your really only shuttled between a prison complex and the courtroom which is quite disappointing, however where they go hard is the musical breaks from reality, these beautiful backdrops and lighting, along with perfect use of angles is phenomenonal, my standout being the tap dancing number (I believe the song is The Joker).

My favorite shot comes early in the film and it's when the four guards are escorting Arthur in the rain and open Umbrellas in the colours of the Joker, it's on the nose but I do love that pallete and it was a cute detail.

Confirmation of POV

This is a smaller one but I was thankful they used multiple POV's. It was draining in the first one to have to second guess if something actually happened, Joker II confirms the 6 murders happened and has shots from Harley's, the guards, and other prisoners POVs, creating a more concrete version of events than it's predecessor.

Stand out performances

I will admit I have always conflated character writing and acting knowing full well that the best actors can't resuscitate a poorly written character (looking at Malekith/Christopher Eccleston) however I'm flawed so I won't comment on Gaga's or Phoneix' acting as I won't be sure what's writing and what's performance.

Kicking it of, Harry Lawtey as Harvey Dent. I feel like he really captures the character of pre-2face Harvey, a brutal prosecutor with a bit of a prideful streak. He still wants to help Gotham but he's not one to humanize villians and Lawtey's tone when he talks about Arthur envisions this perfectly.

My second pick would be Leigh Gill as Gary Puddles, I will say production does their best to cram the most jokes at a little person's expense into Gill's time on screen which im not a fan of. However when Mr Puddles breaks down over how witnessing a murder affected him; how powerless he felt and how he can't function in day to day life anymore. It really hit me, it goes in the face of the narrative spinning around Arthur, how even if he's trying to be morally neutral his actions aren't just murders in a vacuum, he hurts even those he was close with. It was an amazing scene and that was solely to Gill's performance.

The Bad

This might be ungodly long and I have to say now, this might not even be all of it.

Everyone loves Arthur

I need everyone who called Rey a Mary Sue to tell me how Arthur isn't. It is unfathomably strange how everyone in this universe believes him to be the biggest social activist since MLK. 2 years since his murder spree, where on TV he said he killed the business men for shits n' gigs and then gave a milquetoast speech on how we live in society, he still has fans, hundreds, maybe thousands. We hear before the interview his first exclusive tell all is coming soon, so assumingly he's not been talkative since. Yet he has a whole social movement, he has a movie and not just that but in the on screen scenes every character is all about Arthur.

Keep in mind that the multiple POV's make this Movie more solid that the first, knowing that the amount every character centre's Arthur is insane. Harley has no character to the extent I'm calling it Girlboss Sexism where the second Arthur lays eyes on this Jezzabel he stops taking his meds and regresses on all his progress for love. She's girlbossing because she makes the joker worse not the otherway around, however it is still Sexism because we could replace her with the 1 ring and the plot wouldn't change. I have no clue why she's so obsessed with Arthur, or why she does anything other than "I Love The Joker". Outside of singing I think she gets maybe 10 minutes of dialouge which is being generous, to call this move a dualagoist movie would be to lie.

Harley isn't the only one bending over backwards for the most uncharismatic man however. We have Ricky Meline (His prison lackey who FUCKING DIES and the cop, Arthur and the narrative forget about) we have no idea why he idolizes Arthur, actually we can include the whole prison who start kinda-riots several times in support of him.

We have the defense, Maryanne Steward, and even though it's her job to defend Arthur, the level of faith this woman shows to him is frankly dumb. Oh, also he non consensually kisses her twice, both times she's never does more than reproachfully look at him, and doesn't even consider firing him as a client.

This isn't mentioning the BOMBERS who blew up the courthouse on a vague line, the prison guard who flip-flops between getting him into music class then beating him, or the jury who cycle between distressed and sympathetic. Let's be clear this man is pathetic, he has no personality other than sometimes manic, other than that he's despondent. He should not have this much support, it feels like a power fantasy for incel school shooters.

The plot

I've gone into it above the level of distortion the plot does for Arthur but really to call it a plot would be generous. We start with Arthur in prison awaiting trial, with no Harley and we end with Arthur in prison maybe awaiting trial/execution and no Harley +stabwounds. Nothing happens. I never thought my obsessions of phoneix wright and legally blonde would have an antichrist baby called joker: folie à deux but they did and the world won't know peace. The musical numbers don't advance the plot, the entire thing is setting up a court verdict we don't hear, and the opening animation posits a question I don't think even the writers know the answer to.

In the opening animation we see Arthur the clown be replaced by Joker the clown who goes on to shoot the talk show host, we don't know if Joker also killed the 3 business men, his coworker or his mum but oh well. The movie starts and we find out the court case hinges on if Joker actually exists so they can use DID as a grounds for insanity. Let's be clear, even if Arthur has DID, in the 60s/70s he's getting the death penalty, courts don't care about mental health now, you think they did more then? Secondly even if he's doesn't you spend 5 minutes with this man and you know he's so disassociated even without medication that he's got enough grounds for an insanity case. Either way we'll never know, the opening seems pretty clear that this is DID and is seems like Joker is provoked multiple times into fronting during court, but Arthur's ukulele apology to the jury at the end seems to make the answer be he's always been fully aware, which is frankly ludicrous.

The long and short being that there are no plot threads from either the first movie or this one that are answered, open-ended or no, which for a character study movie is abysmal.

The Ending

I was actually laughing by the end, and that isn't a compliment. This started with Arthur trying to stop Lee singing, mirroring the audience's views of this sad excuse for a jukebox musical, and finished when they snuck in one last unanswered question for the finale? Why was someone visiting Arthur? Was is Lee? Why? Did she miss him? Did she want to sing at him again? Was it baby batman?

Oh yeah, there was also some random shanking Arthur. I will admit, I was surprised by how blatant an answer was given in this duology of unexplained threads of films this was. Why is the joker older than batman by loads? I think we all inferred from Arthur's billions of fans that one of them will be Joker Joker but apparently this was the one question that needed a concrete answer, we even saw how he got those scars. It was unnecessary, and honestly I would've rathered seen Arthur get the chair as a send-off. It also posses the question of if the real Joker of this universe will have the same Harley or are Gaga's days numbered? (We don't have to worry, it's tanking so hard there won't be a third one).

In conclusion, the conclusion was a perfect summation of the entire movie, that is that, Harley had no actual role, Arthur was boring yet people are obsessed with him, and we're still stuck in this fucking prison.

Rapid fire time

I don't want to expand these into full points but some further issues -

This is super harmful to the representation of mental health, I won't go fully into it because I will double this post, but as someone who has a grab bag of everything this is on the same level as split bad wise.

God's O gods why was he uncuffed for the majority of the movie.

That jury took an hour? I would've set a speedrun, also why are you letting him get closer, he might whip out a gun or worse a ringlight and a camera.

I shouldn't of watched this a month after quitting smoking, this was just a cigarette Ad.

Is that how this universe's Harvey got 2face'ed because if so that is disappointingly light.

I had to Google every side characters name because they where all so unremarkable.

Why secure Gaga and then do a jukebox musical.

They did a live broadcasted trial for the first live broadcasted TV host shooting AND DID NOTHING WITH THAT CHEKHOV'S GUN.

This was actually chekhov's military arsenal, so many things I thought they'd circle back to, like the dead lackey, the tell all, or the expose interview on prison conditions, and they went nowhere.

The opening animation was ugly I'm sorry, it wasn't even a good homage.

The musical numbers where just I feel numbers so they ground the film to a halt.

This was the first movie I've ever had to turn my phone back on just to check the runtime for.

WHY SECURE GAGA IF YOU WON'T LET HER BELT.

TL;DR

My gods this was long, I think I've thought more about this film than the writers did, my new conspiracy theory is that this was a test for AI writing of major motion films. I cannot fathom how people are defending this Movie, if you've made it this far, firstly I'm so sorry you read all that, Secondly, please let me know in detail WHY you liked this Movie. I know you exist, I've seen the reviews and comments, I want to know genuinely because to me this Movie was holistically bad, I went in with my heels set to enjoy and be the contrarian who likes it and I was swept skywards by a deluge of shit.

This film ends as it begins but with 2 hours of your life lost and a legion of your braincells lost.

Thanks for reading.

#joker: folie à deux #joker #joaquin phoenix #lady gaga #review #joker: folie à deux review #joker: folie à deux spoilers #spoliers #joker 2 #joker II: legally phoneix blonde: ace musical #this is so long #apologies

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melonisopod · 2 years ago

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How I feel about the Limbussy gang

Yi Sang: weird little racoon man, I listen carefully for his name puns cause they get lost in translation.

Faust: despite what the weird Redditors say she’s actually pretty alright. Has a very nice voice though. Faust calls you a fucking idiot while she exposits plot-relevant details ASMR

Don Quixote: beautiful ray of sunshine, adorable cinnamon roll, has done nothing wrong in her life, ever. I am in awe of her tisms.

Ryoshu: she scares me a little, ngl, but I am also a little bit turned on.

Meursault: Fr*nch but still valid. Swings between the most boring cardboard cutout and absolute wild card of a character. Pretty much anything he does is funny because he does it with the utost seriousness.

Hong Lu: I love this himbo. I have some pretty intense gender envy for him too.

Heathcliff: I want to do unspeakable things to this man. I’m positive there’s some angsty backstory that’ll make me want to hug him which can’t come soon enough. I enjoy his Tom and Jerry relationship with Dante.

Ishmael: love her design, love her hair, love her voice, love how much of a menace she is despite trying to come off as the only sane man. Again, there’s a tragic backstory waiting in the wings that I can’t wait to read.

Rodion: I saw a woman so beautiful I started crying. I want her to bridal-carry me. She did absolutely nothing wrong. I wish I could be half as cool as she is.

Sinclair: baby boy, baby, he needs so many hugs after what he’s been through. Declaring him my son now.

Outis: I know damn well her compliments are fake and she’s a huge red flag and probably going to betray me but I don’t care. I want an older lady who can wreck my shit to tell me what a smart and talented person I am. I have problems.

Gregor: babygirl, poor little meow-meow, sad little bug man, I want to give him a hug but I also love watching him take Ls every day. Favorite announcer,

Dante: funny little clock just doing their best. Like Gregor, they have babygirl energy, I love watching them interact with the Sinners and I hope we get more on them soon.

Vergilius: ngl kind of a DILF, but he’s been on thin ice ever since Canto III.

Charon: vroom-vroom, I love her snarky little comments when you choose her as announcer. I’ll give her all the Bongy Plushies.

Yuri: *sobs in the corner*

#corine.txt #keeping this out of the main tag

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luminouslumity · 2 years ago

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Liveblog for Watching and Dreaming!

Okay, last episode. Here we go.

Oh, okay! So we're starting with drama right off the bat then! Great!

TITAN!

STRINGBEAN!

Oh God, poor Luz!

Poor Eda, but I've honestly really missed Lilith as an antagonist, even if it's only a dream in this case.

Okay, and now King is going to be traumatized! Wonderful!

Okay, ouch! This scene with Hunter hurts even more than the others!

Still horrified, but love the call-back to S1.

Aww! Reunion!

Rai Rai! I can't! It's just a shame this isn't the real Raine!

Oh, no... Belos, leave King alone!

This is so sad on so many levels! It's one thing to have an antagonistic chaos being, it's another if that chaos being just genuinely doesn't understand the repercussions of their actions! And of course he wouldn't, he's a child!

Raine, yes! Try and break free!

I'm really liking the action here!

Oh, so we're just gonna get the "try to get through to him" talk now, then. Okay.

The Archivists? Lore? Oh my god!

This poor baby!

GO, RAINE!

Oh, don't tell me that heart belongs to...

And it does! As if you couldn't get any more gruesome, Belos!

AMITY! YAY! And hearing her call Lilith Miss Lilith really makes me wish more than ever that we actually saw them interact beyond Covention.

Aww, more call-backs.

Dana, don't tempt us! But yes, please, I'd give anything for an Eda school days spin-off!

I hate Belos, but man I love his new monster design! It actually kinda reminds me of Garon from Fire Emblem Fates!

Yes, Collector! Go, little guy!

Wait, no! Collector! There are exceptions! That being said, the reactions from Luz, Eda, and King are hilarious!

LUZ, NO!

CAMILA! I'm not even joking when I say I literally started to cry at the same time she did!

YES! AVENGE HER!

Oh, the In-Between Realm!

I knew she'd be fine, but oh god, all of them are going to need therapy once all this is over!

King's dad!?

KING'S DAD! And I love his design!

Aww! He sounds so sweet!

WHY!?

Well, at least we get pretty animation out of this.

GOODBYE, KING'S DAD!

Again, poor Camila!

Glyphs! Yay!

NO, NOT HIM TOO!

NO!

LUZ! AND SHE LOOKS SO GOOD!

Aw, they're all fighting alongside each other! This is awesome!

I've missed you, red foliage!

Wow!

Again, this animation is amazing!

Raine! And she's whistling the song! Ugh, I can't!

Aww, Raeda nuzzlies!

More fluid animation!

YES, SHE SAID IT! SHE SAID THE THING!

BYE-BYE, BELOS!

Oh, fork you, man! How dare you even try and play the "I was possessed" card!

Okay, this is horrifying. Still, death by rain? How delightfully ironic!

Even now, he still refuses to see himself as a villain.

YEAH! STOMP ON HIM!

Aww, King! And of course the message would be a pun!

Aww, more reunions!

DADRIUS CONFIRMED!

Seriously, everything about this voiceover is great! Sucks that Luz can't do magic anymore, though. And I'm glad the Collector will at least be keeping in touch.

Aww, Hunter has a new palisman!

TIMESKIP! NICE!

Aw, the University of Wild Magic!

Amity looks so good! They all do, but Amity's is my favorite! Lilith too, actually!

King-ceñera! So sweet! And disgusting, but it's the thought that counts. And glyphs have returned! Cool!

A removal spell! Awesome!

BYYYYYEEE!

That was such a perfect note to end it on! Thank you for everything, Owl Crew! And I know we'll apparently be getting something related to the Azura series eventually (no idea if it's still going to happen or not though), but even if it's just books or graphic novels, here's hoping we can get more from this show in the future!

#disney #dana terrace #the owl house #the owl house spoilers #toh #toh spoilers #watching and dreaming #watching and dreaming spoilers #luz noceda #eda clawthorne #king clawthorne #willow park #gus porter #amity blight #hunter wittebane #belos #philip wittebane #the collector

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harmonictechnicality · 2 years ago

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When Eddie finally gets into drinking hot teas, Steve loses his goddamn mind. Goes to the store, buys every flavor he can find. Makes a little tea buffet with samples galore on his kitchen island. Even puts little labels out so Eddie knows the name of each one he tries.

Eddie drinks every tiny cup (pretends he’s a fucking giant while doing it) that Steve sets out for him. Goes down the line just sipping and humming in thought/delight. Steve excitedly watches from the adjacent countertop the whole time.

Once Eddie is done, Steve approaches him, hugging Eddie from behind and asking, “Do you have a favorite?”

And Eddie, being a indecisive pain in the ass just says, “All of them. All of them are my favorite, babe. What are you gonna do about that?”

Steve is so unfazed by Eddie’s little challenges by now. Just gets a Costco membership, spends the next day buying tea in bulk.

Eddie comes home to towers of cardboard boxes, some are nearly touching the ceiling. Steve has sectioned off the kitchen with a red ribbon tied to each side of the doorframe.

He limbos under the ribbon, holding an oversized pair of scissors.

“Uh? Babe?” Eddie asks gently. Cause ya know… Steve is holding scissors and looking diabolical. “What’s all this?”

“You couldn’t pick a favorite so I bought every flavor available.” Steve says it easily, like this isn’t batshit wild.

“Okay…”

Steve hands Eddie the scissors. “I call it Eddie’s Ci-Tea…. Get it? Like city but... with tea?”

Damnit, it’s so adorable when Steve makes up shitty puns. Eddie has to cover his smushy face in kisses now (carefully though, cause goddamn motherfucking scissors ugh).

“You’re way too loveable, Steve Harrington.” Eddie gushes, cutting the ribbon. Mayor of their weird little relationship.

Steve kisses Eddie’s cheek and he smells like a fucking spice factory from hauling tea around all day. So fucking yummy, Eddie wants to stir him up with one of those ridiculous little spoons. Make a piping-hot cup of Steve Tea that only he gets to drink up.

And as Eddie examines all the boxes, reading over all the different varieties, he remembers this is still a challenge. A game that he started. And he can’t let Steve just win because he’s rich and pretty, right? That would be too easy.

Eddie goes out of his way to make unnecessary shit difficult cause it’s his evil little side hustle. Some people have hobbies, Eddie Munson has schemes.

So he turns around, facing Steve (who is blissfully happy still), and plants a big kiss on his stupidly pink lips.

“It’s great and all, Stevie, but…”

Steve frowns. “But?”

Eddie pouts, but still gives a devilish wink when he says it:

“You forgot the honey.”

Steve kicks one of the towers, makes it look like the cardboard-version of that famous building in Italy. He grabs his keys and his Costco membership card, and storms out the front door.

Eddie is still laughing as he hears Steve swearing in the driveway. He begins boiling a kettle of water to make some Oolong tea while thinking:

‘I’m gonna marry my snobby pretty boyfriend, and we’re gonna serve all this goddamn tea at our wedding reception.’

#steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #just a little scene I couldn’t get out of my head #they are both insufferable and i love them for it #need to keep writing my full length fic but y’all can have this in the meantime

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luna-the-moth · 4 years ago

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Lucifer, Leviathan, and Satan with a Plant-Loving S/O (SFW)

I accidentally deleted the ask, but here’s what was requested: @hey-its-spades : Hello! For Levi, Lucifer, and Satan if you dont mind uwu . Mc has a knack for plants and has taken it upon themselves to put plants everywhere. ( hanging from ceilings,crawling ivy on outside walls,in the kitchen, library, even luci's study.) All the rooms look a liytle greener and None of them say anything but the student body is saying that it makes the old place look alive and home-y. It makes mc really happy.

Oh I adore this ask! SFW, with a GN! reader. I’m assuming by student body you mean the HoL residents? Since almost nobody outside the household residents visit there. I got really carried away with Levi and the Lucifer angst as well-

My vampire poll for the OM characters

My ask box is open, but please read my rules and guidelines before requesting! Please send them in my ask box, as I can keep track of requests better. Reblogs, likes, and comments are greatly appreciated!

Lucifer, Leviathan, and Satan with a Plant-Loving Reader (SFW)

Prologue/basics for all of them:

Ever since you came to the HoL, you decided that it was too....lifeless.

Sure, there were bright candles lighting the halls, but the house was devoid of any life, besides the brothers and Henry.

So you took it upon yourself to decorate, of course!

While many human world plants didn’t fare well in the Devildom due to the poor soil quality, Lord Diavolo had agreed to bring you enchanted soil, guaranteed to grow any plant.

Regardless of temperature or sunlight needs, whatever plant grew in that soil would flourish to its upmost potential.

Asmo had a great deal of amusement with you decorating, advising you on what colors would fit specific areas of the household, and what species of flowers would bring beautiful symbolism as well.

In the house’s entryway, you left a pair of Strelitzia nicolai (giant bird of paradise) plants, as they added a subtle flair.

With long, stemmed leaves, it contributed a touch of elegance and flair.

On the a few windowsills, you had placed Begonia rex-coltorum (Rex begonias), their dark, vivid, colors standing out.

You had planted crawling ivy on the outside walls, making the house seem more inviting.

Lucifer:

Lucifer hadn’t minded your redecoration, as it had matched well with the house’s aesthetic, adding to the beauty.

In fact, he had quite enjoyed seeing you pore over catalogues and books, deciding which one would fit the space best.

Over the next few weeks, he watched as the House of Lamentation became brighter, more colorful.

It was a nice change, he thought.

However, he was surprised when he had woken up in his study, rose bushes in the corners of his study.

Deep, red roses greeted him as he surveyed his study with a pleased smile.

It was no secret Lucifer adored roses, and he was appalled when he had first arrived in the Devildom, as the soil quality was so poor, it could hardly grow anything.

Which meant he couldn’t grow roses, one of his favorite flowers.

The fact that you had thought about him, and wanted to gift him such a beautiful display, greatly moved the stoic demon.

Making his way to one of the bushes, he took off his gloves and knelt down on one knee.

The soft, sweet fragrance immersed his senses, filling him with memories of laughter, smiles, serenity, and Lilith.

Roses were her favorite flower.

As the memories flooded his mind, Lucifer suddenly felt an overwhelming sense of longing, and his vision became blurred.

He remembered the way Lilith used to brighten up when helping him with his garden, an eager grin ever-present on her face.

The way she would make him a colorful bouquet of roses whenever Michael had given him more stressful tasks than usual.

He quickly wiped a stray tear that had fallen from one of his eyes, and calmed himself.

Taking one of the velvety flowers in his hand, Lucifer gently brought his lips to the flower head, leaving a soft kiss, almost as if it was Lilith’s forehead.

The next time you went over to his study for some tea, he brought you into his arms, bringing you close to him.

Kissing your cheek, he lets a small smile break through his usually-serious facade.

“Thank you for the roses, my love. They compliment my study’s aesthetic nicely.”

Placing a small kiss on your neck, he smirked.

“Perhaps I can thank you with a date tonight?”

Leviathan:

Levi actively enjoyed watching you redecorate the HoL.

It was like one of his favorite games, The Grims! (Yes that was a terrible pun for The Sims.)

He had listened with interest as you went off on the best plants that would fit his aesthetic, and would match well with water.

What caught his attention, was when you brought up the topic of bio luminescent plants.

Of course, they weren’t naturally grown in the human world, but scientists had recently found a way to genetically modify tobacco plants.

In doing so, they had spliced the genes with four fungus genes related to bio luminescence, then carefully cultivated them.

From a seedling to maturity, the plants presented a small glow, visible to the naked eye.

The gene modification had no harmful effects on the plants, and the only difference between the lab-modified plants and wild plants, were height.

The entire time you had explained the plant’s origins passionately, Levi sat in awe, watching as you had gestured your hands in an excited fashion.

So this is what you meant when you had said you enjoyed him being so passionate about an anime or game.

At first, Levi had thought you were merely exaggerating to cheer him up, but as he looks at you now, eyes shining with delight, he understood.

You decided that since you were decorating the HoL, you would decorate Levi’s room as well.

You didn’t have access to the bio-luminescent plants, but you decorated his rooms to the nines nonetheless.

So, you had pooled together your money and resources, to create a mini lily pond for him!

You had miraculously gotten him out of the house, for a cosplay con, in which you had ‘accidentally’ forgotten to buy yourself a ticket.

Which we all know is a lie, you had just not bought one for yourself in order to stay at home, assembling the pond with Solomon’s help.

It was small, enough to fit around 6-7 lily pads/lotuses.

You had carefully grown the lily pads in your room, watching as they eventually bloomed into light, almost ethereal flowers.

By the time Levi came home, you had just finished cleaning up, getting the mud washed from your hands and arms.

Upon seeing the lily pond, Levi’s eyes were wide with amazement and shock.

You created and did this, for him?

Absolutely sets down his handfuls of merch, (gently, mind you) and silently steps over to you.

He does his best to hug you like in anime, wanting you to know how much he appreciates this.

Yes, it may be awkward, but it warms your heart knowing that he stepped out of his comfort zone, just to thank you.

He’s too embarrassed to say it while looking at you, but you can hear his voice as he rests his head against yours.

As he pulls away, a blush is evident on his face, his head turned to the side as he awkwardly places his hand against the back of his neck.

“T-thank you, Y/n. It’s a b-beautiful lily pond.”

Satan:

He fully supported your botanical excursion

After all, he’s always had an affinity for plants.

Whether it be for potions, poisons, or mere decor, Satan had a green thumb, through and through.

If his room weren’t full of books, scriptures, and all sorts of literature, he’d fill it with various plants.

So when you had announced that you were going to re-decorate the HoL with various flora, he was buzzing with excitement.

He gathered every human botanical book he knew of, and started leaving them for you on your desk.

Within a week, you had stacks upon stacks of books, knowledge ready at your disposal.

And so you began to research.

Satan was considerate to leave footnotes in a few of them, like what type would pair well with what color schemes, etc.

You smiled while reading through them, seeing Satan’s elegant handwritten flow across the pages.

Within a few weeks, you had skimmed through the books, thoroughly reading a handful of them.

After ordering the plants you wanted on Azukon, (courtesy of Lord Diavolo’s credit card-) you were eagerly anticipating their arrival.

Especially because a few ‘special items’ were in the package.

After all, you wanted to thank Satan properly for his help.

When the various flora arrived, you had carefully cultivated each of them, encouraging their growth.

Satan had assisted you, monitoring their progress, and making sure none of his brothers ruined them.

The following weekend, Satan had a student council meeting planned, as did the rest of the brothers.

Which left you with the perfect opportunity to set up Satan’s gifts.

In his room, you had placed Senecio rowleyanus (string of pearls) plants, their bright green globes spilling over the bookshelves.

Along with that, were lavender candles, with dried lavender crushed inside.

After all, Satan had always (usually) been the most level-headed out of his brothers, despite his title.

He’s much more than the avatar of wrath, and has gone through painstaking time and trials to overcome that.

That’s why you had picked lavender, which without a doubt, would be noticed by Satan.

When he had come back from the meeting, he was already in a pissy mood, as things didn’t go as planned, ending in an argument between the brothers.

However, when he stepped into his room, seeing lavender candles lit, and garlands of plants over the bookshelves, he immediately broke out in a smile.

A real, genuine smile.

Seeing you sitting on his bed, lavender candles lit, plant garlands stringing down from the bookshelves, it was almost like one of the romance novels he had read...

Quickly, he scooped you up in his arms, spinning you until you were laughing for him to stop.

Finally setting you down to gently kabeddon you, he playfully kisses the corner of your lips.

“Thank you my love, these are absolutely beautiful. I shall preserve these for all eternity.”

#my writing #obey me #obey me fluff #obey me x reader #obey me x reader fluff #obey me lucifer #obey me leviathan #obey me satan #obey me lucifer x reader #obey me leviathan x reader #obey me satan x reader #obey me scenario #obey me headcanon #obey me angst

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a-pretty-nerd · 2 years ago

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Hellboy/TMNT CROSSOVER OCs

I keep deleting these because I feel stupid halfway through and keep doubting myself but-

HERE IT GOES AGAIN-

Pheobe and Maddison Sherman are the 17yr old daughters of Hellboy and Elizabeth Sherman.

Aka: The Hell Twins

Maddison, the older twin, takes after her mother in many, many ways. Including but not limited to: appearance, hellfire powers, and anxiety disorder. She's a goth lesbian who plays like 6 instruments. Extremely sarcastic and witty.

Pheobe, the baby, takes after her father. Red skin, tail, horns and all. She idolized her parents and wants to be heroes just like them. Is never without a scrape or a bruise. Bisexual problem child.

(Note: forgive me, for my art skills are a bit lack luster and I decided a picrew avatar maker would do. You can find the website here)

Growing up in bum-fuck-nowhere, they were relocated and have been living at Bureau of Paranormal Research and Defense (B.P.R.D) since they were 10. The parents were forced back into B.P.R.D work after the twins were abducted by a group of alien occultists who were sent to kill the twins to prevent the end of the world. Oh yeah, there's always a Prophecy that the twins will end the world. They never do though. Wild.

Being raised and taught by various B.P.R.D agents, the twins become dedicated defenders of humans against paranormal threats that arise. Unfortunately for them, they are only allowed on the non-lethal missions and general ghost hunts. That still doesn't stop them from getting into trouble.

I'd like to imagine this all takes place in the same univers as TMNT. Specifically Rise!TMNT.

Mostly because I'd love to see the twins and turtles be friends and fight monsters together. Just a bunch of crazy homeschooled kids running around hunting demons n' shit. I think that'd be cool.

Pheobe is a chaotic good through and through, her and Mikey are a problem when left to their own devices. Leo and Pheobe have joke contests to see who can make the worst pun/joke. Donnie is the only friend Pheobe has that will let her just absolutely unleash her special interests on and vice-versa. Raph is Pheobe's favorite training buddy/sparring partner because Pheobe has weird super-strength/indestructible powers like her dad and Raph is the only person she can actually go toe to toe with without the fear of her hurting them.

Maddison struggles to make friends and is very nervous around the turtles at first but soon she finds good friends in them. Leo in particular makes it his mission to make her laugh and break her usual stoic attitude, it always works. Mikey loves to drag her into helping him cook and as much as she argues against it, she loves it. Donnie and Maddison often take on "the straight man" role in situations and are both very sarcastic. The difference is that Maddison's sarcasm is intentional. And Maddison and Raph start a book club together, Donnie tried to be apart of it but he got bored and stopped so it's just them now.

I'd like to think they stay mostly long-distance friends since the twins live in Colorado but visit whenever they can. Hellboy and Splinter chillax and watch TV together. They send each other Christmas cards every year.

More friendship Oc headcannons to come?

#tmnt fanfiction #tmnt 2018 #tmnt oc #rise tmnt #hellboy #i love these idiots #gremlin children #literal demon children i love them #rottmnt #rise donnie #rottmnt raph #leo rottmnt #mikey rise

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maliby · 4 years ago

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Ride ~ jjk (m)

↬ Pairing: Jungkook x Fem. Reader ↬ Story Genre: stripper!au, SMUT, PWP ↬ Warnings: explicit language, explicit sex scenes ↬ Word count: 5.2K ↬ Summary: It all started with Jungkook inviting you for his new performance tonight. It all ended with you and Jungkook fucking like rabbits in the back room.

A/N: THIS is what Jeon Jungkook makes me do. I was in the middle of writing a new chapter for When the Night Comes and I just could stop my urges to destroy him in that fucking outfit. Anyways....hope all my fellow hoes enjoy <3

P.S.- If you want that extra umph in the strip scene, please listen to the song “Usher - Trading Places”, I promise you it’s double worth it ;)

You looked at the text message Jungkook had sent you as you were on your Uber to ‘The G Spot’. A wicked grin spread on your face as you felt your excitement grow with the thought of his performance.

You first met Jungkook when you were out drowning your sorrows in vodka. Your boyfriend of five years had dumped you because you spent too much time at your new job and you ended up spending the night in Jungkook’s bed.

That night he told you he was a male performer of some sorts that went by the stage name ‘Rider’ at the famous ‘G Spot’ club. He’d do some sexy performances on stage (most of the time they were themed) but, some times, he’d also work as a gigolo. Clients would pay to take him to one of the back rooms and, if he was interested in the client and/or the money they were offering, he’d have sex with them. Since then, you’d become a pretty regular customer of the club and Jungkook.

“We’re here miss,” the Uber driver mentioned, interrupting your thoughts.

“Thank you.” You left the car and looked up at the big purple neon sign saying ‘The G Spot’. You took out your purse to retrieve your membership card and walked right in, immediately showing it to the bouncer that then confirmed your identity.

“Y/N!” The familiar voice of the owner Maria greeted you as soon as you entered. “Rider mentioned you’d be popping by,” she smirked.

“Hi, honey!” You gave her a quick hug and followed her to the bar, watching her start working on your usual vodka cranberry. “Sugar told me he had a very special performance and wanted me to watch.”

“And you couldn’t miss it,” she teased as she slid you the glass with your drink.

“Well, you��ve seen him,” you took a sip and hummed, signalling that you liked the taste of the drink.

“Oh, believe me, if I wasn’t his boss I’d definitely give him something to ride if you know what I mean,” you choked at her confession, sharing a good laugh with her.

“Right sweety, you better go sit, the show’s about to start.”

“Yeah, I don’t want to lose my spot. When is he coming on?”

“First Black Magic is gonna take the stage and Rider will be right after him,” Maria told you as she cleaned the balcony of the bar.

The news came as a surprise to you. Usually, Jungkook would close the show since he was one of, if not the best, performers in the club. The news was especially weird since he said he had a new routine and normally when that happened he would always close the show.

“He’s second?!” The look of surprise on your face probably came as no surprise to Maria. In fact, you were sure it didn’t due to her expression of understanding.

“Yeah, I don’t know why either. He begged me to be second and usually, I’m really particular about the show but since it was him I accepted. That and V Jay and RoMeo have a special number prepared for tonight, so I let them be last.”

“Weird…” You both stood in silence for a few seconds before you remembered you had to go get your seat before someone else did. “Well, I’m gonna take a sit.” You pointed to the chairs and booths and gave her a small smile.

“Go, go, honey. Enjoy the show!” She waved you goodbye before she turned to get a customer’s order.

You sat down right at the front - as Jungkook had instructed - and waited for a few minutes while you sipped on your drink.

About ten minutes later the show started. You had watched Black Magic perform before and even though he wasn’t as good as the other guys (seeing that he was quite new to this) he still managed to get you all hot and bothered.

Tonight he was doing his ‘Anaconda’ performance. He walked in dressed as a zookeeper with a fake anaconda on his shoulders and once his Anaconda remix commenced playing he started to slide the fake snake all over his body. Then he began to undress, revealing his delicious oily chocolate abs and climbed off the stage making his way to you. He put the fake snake around your neck and pulled you towards him so your face was right in his abs.

“Lick,” he ordered in a low raspy voice, getting you all hot and bothered.

You obliged.

You licked him from the hem of his shorts up to his pecks, the crowd around you going wild. He tasted coconutty, and you were pretty sure he had spread coconut oil on his body before the show.

After making the rounds to a few more girls Black Magic went back on stage and that’s when he took his shorts off, standing in just his g-string and showing off the outline of the ‘Anaconda’ between his legs.

Soon, he started humping everything on stage, simulating sex in such an erotic way that had all the people in the audience in a complete trance.

He was good. You had to give him that, but he was not Rider. Rider could completely destroy you just with his eyes. Just those feral looks he gave were more than enough to make you hump the fucking chair.

You completely spaced out thinking about Rider and when you came back to it everyone was clapping, making you realize that Black Magic had finished his performance. When your eyes focused on the performer he was already leaving the stage, taking his money and clothes with him.

You called for the waiter and pointed to your empty glass, signalling him that you’d like another vodka cranberry - you needed to feel the buzz of the alcohol if you ever were planning on surviving Rider’s performance tonight.

The drink came and you immediately drank half of it, feeling the build-up of anticipation. You didn’t know why but you were starting to get nervous, your leg bouncing up and down. You decided you’d go check Instagram as you waited, but as soon as you opened the app the lights turned down and focused on one spot on the curtains.

“Ladies and gentleman, are you ready to have the ride of your life?” You chuckled at the announcer’s silly pun. The audience around you rilled up, already deciphering from his pun who was coming up next. Rider sure was a fan favourite.

“Then I want to hear you scream loud and clear for Rideeeeer!”

The crowd went wild, but not as wild as your beating heart. Something about this performance was telling you you were about to be in for a crazy ride and when the song “Trading Places” by Usher started playing you knew you were absolutely right.

When Rider opened up the curtain and came onto the stage your jaw dropped. He was wearing a loose leopard print shirt that had a ‘v-cut’ so low you could see part of his defined chest and abs. On top of that, he was wearing a loose flowy red robe with black details that matched the colour of his pants, the latter ones though, being so tight you could see every little detail of his meaty thighs. His hair was loosely sleeked back, a stray piece of hair dangling right in front of his killer eyes.

“Fuck,” you muttered as you took in the view.

Rider was handsome, there was never any doubt in that, but this fucking outfit? You were damn sure every single pussy in this place was wet just by staring at him.

Hey, I know what you’ used to We gon’ do something different tonight

Rider started walking to the centre of the stage as if he was a tiger ready to pounce. The lethal look on his eyes made you think of all the times he looked at you like that, like he was about to fucking devour you - which he did.

Now we gonna do this thing a lil' different tonight You gon' come over and pick me up in your ride

He spread his legs almost in a squat position, emphasizing his thick thighs, and ran his hand from his chest all the way down to his crotch. He grabbed his crotch and looked straight at the audience, making a ‘come here’ sign with his other hand - the crowd went wild.

After this, he gave a little twirl and slid half of his dark red robe off (letting it stay in the middle of his arms) and started body rolling. Your throat got dry, making you swallow your own saliva.

Nobody body rolled like him. He was so fluid and sharp at the same time. The combination of his sinful body movements and his facial expressions being the added bonus. You could swear he could make anyone want him - you sure did.

Then everything stopped for you. He looked you right in the eyes and, at that same instant, you felt a wave of arousal slid past your folds and straight to your panties.

He smirked.

He knew the power he had over you. He knew he had you wrapped around his finger and all he had to do was to say when and where.

Then, he started to seductively walk towards the stairs - he was coming down to the audience.

He kept looking straight at you as he made his way down the stairs and you felt your heartbeat rise - he was coming in your direction.

You started to smile like an idiot until he walked right past you and went to the table right next to yours. The group of five friends on a bachelorette party went ecstatic (as you would) while you on the other hand felt nothing but annoyance. He was toying with you. Teasing was Rider’s favourite game, a game which he would often play with you and it drove you absolutely mad.

He made his way to the bride and practically straddled her, taking in her hands and making her feel his defined abs as he body rolled.

I'm always on the top tonight I'm on the bottom Cause we trading places When I can’t take no more, tell me you ain't stopping 'Cause we trading places

You shouldn’t be jealous, this was his job and you two had by no means a serious relationship but you hated the way he was toying with you. You also hated that your jealousy was exactly what he wanted.

Fucking Jeon Jungkook.

The bride’s screams got even louder as Rider got off of her and spread her legs. He supported himself on the chair’s arms and started to simulate sex with her, thrusting his hips towards her crotch.

Gon' get it, get it get it, get it get it, Gon' get it, get it get it, get it get it, Gon' get it, get it get it, get it get it.

Then, Rider got off from her and turned around, looking straight at you. Your heart jumped once more. He made his way towards you and this time he stopped right in front of you with a devious smile on his face. He straddled you, just like he did the girl before you and grabbed your hand, only this time he pulled his leopard shirt from underneath his pants and placed your hand on his bare skin.

You had felt up his abs a million times before, but the action never failed to make you all hot and bothered. His abs were a perfect six-pack, like a chocolate bar ready to be eaten up. You remember all the times you played with his abs as he has your fingers running up through each of his individual muscles.

One, two, three, four, five and six.

He then runs your hand lower so you could palm his hard cock.

You knew the dancers would pump up their dicks backstage so it would look extra big on stage and cause a better reaction, but by the way he was looking at you and biting his lip you couldn’t help but feel like he was horny because of you, and not some pump.

Then, he let’s go of your hand and rips his shirt wide open, now exposing all of his glossy defined muscles.

“Fuck.”

He removed his red robe and gave it a little twirl so the garment would become like a long scarf. He then softly ran the robe from your belly, straight between your cleavage and up your neck. The tingling sensation was so soft and arousing that you instantly felt your nipples perk up and the ache between your legs grow bigger, making you rub yourself on the chair.

He threw the robe onto the stage and got even closer to you, his covered crotch just centimetres away. Then, out of nowhere, and as a contrast to the soft movement of the robe, he grabs you by your hair and sharply hip thrusts to the sound of the music towards your mouth, simulating oral sex.

Gon' get it, get it get it, get it get it, Gon' get it, get it get it, get it get it, Gon' get it, get it get it, get it get it,

When you feel like you are ready to risk it all and suck him right there in front of everyone he lets go of your hair and turns around to go back on the stage. You let go of the breath you now realized were holding. This man was truly testing all your limits.

He got to stage and discarded his ruined leopard print shirt, now only having the form-fitting red pants on. He turns to the audience and mouths the line from the song: “Where you want me?”

The guitar starts playing and Usher starts moaning, and that’s when it all goes to shit. Rider does his signature move where he does a handstand and slowly comes down in a wave and starts fucking the floor.

Oh oh Oh oh You baby Give it to me baby Oh oh Oh oh

You cross your legs and can’t help but squeeze tight to alleviate the ache in your dripping core. The crowd was going wild, the screams getting louder but to you, it felt like you couldn’t even hear them; it felt like only you and Rider were there, and that he was showing off just for you.

The way in which his thrusts become more powerful, the way his veins on his muscular arms pop out, the way he imitates the moans at the same time as the vocalist’s were driving you insane and you were one step closer to just sneak your hand between your legs and play with yourself, not even caring about where you were.

After presumably making the floor pregnant, Rider changes positions and lays on his back. This time, instead of fucking the floor, he places his hands on an imaginary person on top of him and fucks the air instead, just as the song says:

You get on top tonight I'm on the bottom Cause we trading places When I can’t take no more, you say you ain't stopping 'Cause we trading places

As the instruments in the song start to quite down (signalling the ending of the song), Rider gets up and faces the audience with the most sinful grin. He teasingly pops the button of his pants and slides down the zipper, his bulgy dick expanding immediately under his white underwear. Then, he slides his hand under his underwear and shamelessly palms himself. If he wasn’t a professional who had all his angles studied, there was no way he could conceal his cock from the audience with just one hand, but he knew exactly what he was doing and you cursed him for it.

The song was about to end and you were curious about the big finish. Whatever it was, you were damn sure it would leave you gasping for air.

Sure enough, you were right.

Just as the instrumental hits its last notes, Rider gives one last teasing smirk and as he takes his dick out of its confinement the lights go out leaving, quite literally, everyone in the dark.

“Fuck,” you cursed at the show you just witnessed and the erotic sensations it brought in you.

This was why he wanted you to come so badly? To fucking tease you? That motherfucker. There was no way you could just sit there and watch. There was no fucking way you could just sit there and go back to your normal life - and you wouldn’t.

Downing the last of your drink you grabbed your purse and made your way to the owner Maria who was currently behind the bar.

When you requested the back room with Rider to Maria you were surprised to find out it had already been booked in your name - the owner smugly telling you that Rider had booked it for you.

You were pissed. Not in a bad way, but still fucking pissed.

You couldn’t help but pace around as you waited for Rider in the back room - sipping on a glass of champagne that came with the package. Your mind was racing, thinking about how he had invited you here, teased you beyond belief and booked you the back room alone with him without telling you. He knew you were going to cave, he knew you’d want a taste and it drove you fucking mad that he could manipulate you like that.

The sound of the door opening made you snap your head in its direction.

The first thing you notice is his exposed torso, Rider only wearing the red pants and robe from the performance earlier. The second was the fucking smug look on his face.

“Hey baby, did you enjoy the show?” He asked in a velvety voice after he closed the door and made his way to you to give you a kiss - you dodged. If he kissed you now, it would be game over for you, and you needed to make him suffer just like he did you.

“What the fuck was that?” You poked his chest with an accusatory finger, but he was so strong that he didn’t move.

“Just my new routine.” He pretended that he didn’t know what you were talking about, but the look on his face told a whole different story.

“Just your new routine?” You scoffed before you continued. “You tell me to come and sit in the first row. Then, you come in dressing like that,” you look down at his outfit to show what you were talking about but immediately regret it once you notice the tent in his tight pants. “You tease me like there’s no tomorrow and then you book this fucking room for me?”

“Don’t be silly Y/N, I just wanted to show you, as one of my best clients, my brand new act.” He took a brief pause before he continued again, this time in a slightly different tone, “And if I recall correctly, you weren’t the only one I teased.”

He tried to sound breezy but you saw right through his act. If he wanted to play then that was what he was going to get.

“Is that so?” You asked in a knowing tone, him just humming in response. “Well then, if I recall correctly, you weren’t the only one who teased me. Maybe I should go book a room with Black Magic instead.”

His whole expression changed. The playfulness in him was now completely gone, only a dark jealous look remaining.

He took several steps forward cornering you into a wall, excitement pooling down between your legs. “Don’t you fucking dare talk about another man.”

Any other day and you’d completely sub for him, a look from him being enough to have you on your knees but today...today you were feeling like you wanted to put up a fight. “Or what?”

He moved in closer to your ear to whisper: “Or I’ll use your pretty little pussy like my personal cum dumpster and leave you here with a creamy cunt that didn’t get the chance to orgasm.”

You tried to remain calm but your erratic breathing gave you away, making him chuckle. “You’d like that?”

When his hand touched your knee you couldn’t help but feel startled, his touch at this point turning you on beyond belief.

“You would. My little slut.” You couldn’t see his smirk, because his face was now buried in your neck, but you could definitely hear it in his voice.

“I can just imagine you fingering your creamy pussy just to get off,” his hand starts travelling up your exposed thigh and starts playing with the hem of your skirt, making you go wild. “If I close my eyes I can already see my cum overflowing and running down your perfect little asshole.” His other hand grabbed your right breast and started massaging it over your shirt, making you release a tiny little moan.

What was happening to you? He was winning. You couldn’t let him win. You had to do something now.

With the inner strength you didn’t even know you had in yourself you took a deep breath and pushed him away, your senses immediately clearing as you no longer felt his intoxicating smell so close.

He was shocked, and his shock only gave you that more strength.

“I think you’ll find that it’s actually the opposite Jungkook.” Usually, while you were with him in the club you would never call him by his real name, but this time you felt like it gave the moment a more serious tone, and you definitely wanted him to take you seriously.

“You think you’re some big shot?” You scoffed and made your way towards him, this time you being the one who backs him up against the big red leather sofa with the big red neon sign that said “Sex” just above it. You gave him one little push and he fell back, you towering over him for a change.

“You are here for me to use. I pay you, so…” you lower yourself down and sit right on top of his bulge, your skirt hoisting up. “...I’m gonna fuck you until my pussy gets its fill and then I’m gonna leave you with a hard red leaky cock that’s aching to be milked dry.”

Jungkook’s expression didn’t falter, but he didn’t say anything either, giving you the courage to continue.

You pressed your core even harder on his cock and started grinding, a tiny hiss leaving both your mouths. “I can just imagine your frustrated face, fisting your cock as you imagine it’s my cunt. Going at it so hard and fast that your lungs can barely keep up. Parting your pretty little lips to moan my name…”

Jungkook bucked his hips upwards to feel you even better, the sensation driving you absolutely mad.

You looked into each other’s eyes, tension building as you felt each other up. Your hands ran down his exposed chest as his squeezed your ass. You couldn’t help but look at his lips, those sinful lips that had made you feel extraordinary sensations so many times before - he chuckled.

“You’re cute when you try to be a dom.” He grabbed your chin and forced you to look straight into his dark lustful eyes, “are you going to fucking kiss me or do I have to beg for it?”

Feeling affected that he described your actions as “cute” you harshly slapped his hand away and grabbed him by his hair, pulling him forward so his lips could crash into yours.

The kiss was erratic. Hungry. Animalistic. Needy. Everything.

You slid his robe down his muscular biceps exposing his protruding veins and sexy tattoos and as soon as he was finished discarding the garment to the middle of the room he grabbed your white shirt by the cleavage and ripped it right open throwing the destroyed shirt to the place where his robe was.

“That shirt was expensive,” you say between breaths as he frees your mouth to kiss you down your neck.

“Fuck the shirt, I want you.” He bit a piece of skin on your chest and tugged on it with his teeth as he slid the straps of your bra down, your skin forming tiny little bumps from the sensation of his fingers running through it.

“Rider…” you moaned as his mouth got closer and closer to your breasts, your hips grinding on him harder.

“Call me Jungkook.”

“Jungkook…” you moaned as he moved your bra down, the rough seam bumping against your sensitive nipples. His lips immediately claimed one of your hardened peeks, the other one being left at the mercy of his tattooed fingers.

You picked up your pace and started dry humping like a madwoman, your orgasm getting closer and closer.

“I’m gonna cum.” Your announcement made Jungkook toy with your nipples harder, twisting and pulling until you were cumming undone, his name coming out of your mouth like a mantra.

Not having any time to breathe, Jungkook picked you up and threw you to the couch, the feeling of the leather on your bare hot skin making you slightly uncomfortable. Before you even had time to ask him what he was doing, he was pulling your panties down and diving in straight to your core, your legs closing in on his head due to the sensitivity.

“Jungkook, I wanna suck your cock…” you whined as he inserted one of his middle fingers inside of you.

“Sorry love, no sucking today. I just want to be buried inside of you.” He started to suck on your clit and after working his finger in for a little bit he added another. You could tell he was in a rush to fuck you and that turned you on even more.

He curled up his fingers inside you making you moan even louder and you thanked your lucky stars the room was soundproof. You were so wet that you could hear it perfectly clear, a sound so lewd that made your whole temperature rise.

Very soon you were feeling your orgasm building once more and, this time, you could tell it was stronger than the other. “Fuck baby, give me more…”

Like a soldier taking orders, he promptly added a third finger and at that moment you knew you weren’t gonna last much longer. In fact, all it took was 10 more seconds of him finger-fucking you while flicking your clit with his tongue and you were spiralling down in pleasure once more, this time on his mouth. “Jungkook...”

You lied there with your eyes closed for what felt like an eternity - the need to catch your breath and calm your heart way too big - but when you finally opened them, Jungkook was standing next to you all naked slowly pumping his cock.

“Sssss...Y/N, don’t fucking look at me like that or I’m gonna bust-”

Feeling your dom persona getting back into action, you got up and threw him down on the black fluffy rug - its fluffy texture being much more pleasant than the leather of the couch. You placed your legs on both sides of him and crouched down. His dick was so hard it was standing straight up, almost like it was waiting for you to sink down on it. So, not being able to resist it any longer, you simply grabbed it and sat right on top of him.

“Fuck, such a fucking tight cunt for me-” You shut him up by putting your hand on his mouth and started riding him like you were at a fucking rodeo.

You were feeling drunk on sex. His cock was hitting you on all the right places (like it always did), his hands were grabbing your hips so hard you were sure they were gonna leave a mark and the sight of his bulging muscles glistening with sweat was driving you into absolute madness.

You were fucking at a mad speed, even you didn’t know where all that strength had come from, but if someone saw you right now they’d probably think you had taken some drugs. Eventually, though, your body started to grow tired and Jungkook noticed that, so he let go of your hips and pulled you onto him. Your head nuzzled on his neck and he started to fucking drill you up.

“Oh shit, shit, shit…” You moaned into his neck, a mix of his cologne and sweat hitting your nostrils.

“Fuck, I’m not gonna last long baby.”

Hearing his confession you snaked your arm between your bodies and frantically rubbed your clit so you could cum at the same time. The work on your abused clit didn’t last long though, making you cum on his deliciously hard cock, “oh Jungkook.”

“Fuck, Y/N.” The clenching of your pussy eventually tipped him over the edge, him spilling his warm seed inside of you.

After a while of you two panting on the rug, Jungkook got up to pick a couple of tissues so he could clean you up, leaving you alone on the floor.

“Fuck me…” you said in a surprising sense at what had just happened as he kneeled between your legs.

“Again?” He looked up at you with a teasing smirk and proceeded to collect his cum with the tissues.

“You know what I mean,” you laughed, the mood feeling light.

Once you got up to put your discarded clothes back on you remembered what Jungkook had done to your shirt and turned to him with your hands on your hips. “How am I supposed to get out of here with no shirt Mr Jeon Jungkook?”

“Fuck, I’m sorry,” he apologized as he put his tight pants back on. “I brought a shirt under my hoodie today, I can lend it to you. Might not go with your outfit though…” He teased as he looked at your pencil skirt.

“I’ll take it,” you smiled at him and waited as he went to his dressing room to pick his shirt up.

Once he returned not only did he bring you his shirt, but a stack of bills leaving you completely stunned. “Here you go,” he said as he handed you the shirt and completely ignored the money.

“Thank you,” you put on his shirt since you were starting to feel kind of cold and looked at him with a questioning look. “Are you paying me for my services or…?”

He looked confused for a second before he followed your gaze to the money on his hands and laughed. “Oh no, this is hum... for the back room.”

“Jungkook, you don’t have to. I’m the client and I used your services, I should pay.”

“Yeah but...don’t look at tonight like a service. I invited you, I teased you...it’s on me tonight,” he tried to place the money on your hands but you hesitated, eventually grabbing it and giving him a shy smile.

What this meant for the two of you you didn’t know, but you sure were excited to find out.

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bookishofalder · 4 years ago

Text

Night Changes [Seven]

Summary: An unexpected attack cuts the final tethers of restraint for Poe and the reader.

Warnings: Language, violence, blood, mentions of attempted assault, choking, injury description (note RED cuts to skip past uncomfortable parts if preferred), Smut—PiV, fingering, squirting, oral. W— +14K.

A/N: If there was ever a chapter I would beg for feedback/thoughts, this is it. Please tell me you like it. Oh god, soothe my worried mind.

It was tempting, the urge to roll your eyes as the man before you moved to stand too close. You smirked, waiting to see if he was serious in his attempt to corner you or if he would scamper off the moment you pulled your knife from your thigh holster where it was hidden beneath your dress.

There was a darkness in his gaze that made your hand twitch at your side, and here you had thought Canto Bight would be relatively uneventful. But it appeared you caught his eye and your disguise as just another casino patron worked because he had followed you unexpectedly into the foyer off of the main ballroom, where you had gone to wait for Poe and Temmin to return.

The three of you were here for intel promised by a very wealthy ally, so dressing the part was important for blending in with the privileged crowds. You were sure the man before you thought you weak enough to bully, a rich girl he could take advantage of.

You were annoyed, wishing you’d gone with Poe instead of Temmin, that you hadn’t offered to keep watch for any signs of your enemies because you felt you were the least suspicious of the three of you. BB8 stayed with you, but when you’d seen the man following you over your shoulder you told the droid to hide and it had zipped behind a potted plant in the corner of the foyer, beeping coyly.

You had first assumed he was a guard, perhaps about to tell you that you were in the wrong place if you were looking for a fresher, but when he stepped around you and blocked your path you quickly realized he was something else entirely. His suit, you could tell now from close up, was immensely expensive and he reeked of cologne.

There were two hallways over his shoulder, one which Poe and Temmin had gone down to meet with the contact, and the other which branched off to various parts of the greater building. Both were quiet, and so you knew not to expect any sudden interruptions that might save you the trouble of having to incapacitate the man.

But, you could easily handle one lone wolf who bit off more than he could chew.

Which was why it came as a very great surprise to you when you felt another presence behind you, but before you could do more than stiffen you felt pressure against your spine; a second man had snuck in and was pressing a knife to you. Now you understood that the first man wasn’t blocking your path; he was distracting you.

So less of a lone wolf, more of a predator with a partner. Bile rose in your throat and you glared at the man in front of you. He smirked now, taking another step toward you so that both men were almost pressed up against you, sandwiching you between them. “You’re a pretty little number.” He hissed, one hand shooting out to grab your throat.

You wanted to fight, but the knife at your back was a heavy warning of what could happen and you knew you needed to play your cards right. No pun intended. You’d been cornered before, of course, but always by First Order officers. Rich men who wanted what they couldn’t have were not on your list of experiences before this, and you wondered how best to deal with them.

“Fuck you,” You seethed, and the hand at your neck tightened fractionally. More of a threat than anything else.

His words though were a clear threat. “No, we’ll fuck you, doll.”

The way they got you onto the floor, the ease and swiftness of it, told you they’d done this together before. It sickened you, made fury rise inside of you and you wanted nothing more than to pull the knife from your holster and drive it into the hand at your throat. You made a noise, a growl, and the man with the knife finally spoke up.

“She’s a wild one, probably best to knock her out.”

You were going to kill them. Whatever happened, their blood would be soaking into this plush carpet before the end of the night. The first man moved so that he was straddling your chest, his weight on his hunches, and grinned down at you.

“Don’t worry, we’ll have our fun and be on our way. We aren’t going to hurt you so long as you don’t struggle.” He immediately contradicted himself when the hand at your throat tightened, pressing at the sides in a way that cut off airflow without completely crushing your throat. They wanted you to pass out.

You went limp, conserving your energy as you scowled up at the man. The reality of your situation was now enough to cause panic to bubble up; Poe and Temmin hadn’t been gone long. The contact would invite them for a drink, chat with them briefly before passing along the intel. They would find you here, after.

No, that couldn’t happen. It would kill Poe, and he wouldn’t be able to leave until he found the men. You whimpered, black spots started to dance in your vision and you saw, from the corner of your eye, a blur of orange and white zoom down the hallway your squadmates had ventured not long ago.

The second man was already getting excited, his free hand brushing over your face, touching your lips. Even without any air coming in, you tried to bite him. He jerked his finger back, cursing, and the man holding your throat threw his head back to laugh loudly, the pressure releasing in his distraction. You think he started to tease the other man, but everything was confusing now and instincts overtook your body, pulling in air-too much air, too quickly.

Scream.

Yes, you needed to scream. One good, long one that someone would hear, or at least loud enough to scare them off of you in case someone did come looking for the source. You kept pulling in air and it was painful your vision blurring, and you think you were about to pass out. Faces appeared in your mind. Two very distinct, very familiar faces; Charlie and Poe. Your protectors, your family, your love.

Just like that, you had what you needed to find the strength to scream.

It came out in one long, very loud wail, the sound of it echoing off of the walls and back to you before you passed out.

“POOOOOEEEEEE!”

The Martell family moved off, having given their words of sorrow and sympathy, and Charlie tightened the arm he had secured around his mother’s shoulders. She was the strong, silent type like him; whereas you always took after dad. He was keeping close to mom today, providing her with the support she needed and knowing that you were being well taken care of by the one person who could provide the tender love you required.

Charlie glanced around the room as mom took a sip of water, seeking you in the crowd. His eyes landed on Dad's green armchair in the corner, where you were curled up in Poe’s lap, face pressed into his neck as you shook with sobs. He could see his best friend whispering to you, his hand rubbing up at down your back, no doubt repeating words of comfort. He must have felt Charlie’s gaze, his eyes flicking up suddenly before he smiled sadly.

In many ways, it was a beautiful thing to behold the love which you and Poe had for one another. Even as young as you all were, no one could doubt or question that you were both made for one another-except, of course, for yourselves.

Charlie could almost be jealous if he hadn’t spent years around you and seen how natural it seemed to come to you both. He couldn’t be angry that his best friend loved you so deeply, that he knew what to do to comfort you, to care for you, knew when it was needed without Charlie even needing to ask. Hell, even dad had noticed, mentioned it to Charlie during that last visit...

Dad was smiling at Charlie, who sat in the chair next to his bed in the medical facility. It was a nice private room, the kind that the staff made a little homier because it was where the terminal patients came to live out their last days. Mom had taken you and Poe with her to get tea in the nearby lounge, leaving Charlie alone with dad one last time. He sighed, admitting to dad now that they were alone that it didn’t feel fair to lose his father at sixteen. And you were barely fourteen!

Dad chuckled sadly, “I want to stay more than you know, son. I have to tell you, Charlie, that I’m already more than proud of who you are and I know you’ll continue to be a remarkable person. I told your sister the same, but she’s still young, she’ll need more reminders,” Dad paused to take a breath and Charlie waited patiently, taking hold of one of his hands. “I know you’ll always take care of her, put her before anything else. Even the fight, it comes second to her. Though I expect you’ll have help. Wish I could have been around to see those two get married one day.”

Charlie grinned, “You noticed them too?” His father nodded, eyes bright despite the sickness. “How could anyone not, I suppose. Except them.” Charlie added, rolling his eyes fondly.

Dad laughed again, “They’ll realize it when they’re ready. You’re all too young for love anyway,” He joked, giving Charlie a mock stern look. “Just make sure that whatever they do, you focus on your own happiness too, son.”

He squeezed Charlie’s hand weakly, he smiled at his father, “I promise I’ll take care of her, dad. And mom, she’ll need me more.” Dad nodded, his eyes a little wet but so filled with love that Charlie could only stare at him for a few minutes before continuing. “You want me to beat him up when they do finally kiss, though?”

Another weak laugh, followed by a wink, and then Charlie spent a few more minutes talking with his dad for the last time, before eventually mom, you and Poe filtered back in.

He felt a lot of love and joy despite the fucking misery of it, until Dad's eyes slipped shut the final time and you all kissed him before stepping out to leave mom alone with the nurse. You were wrapped around Charlie, who had carried you out of the room, and he passed you over to Poe, asking his friend to take you home while he took care of mom. Poe pressed his forehead to Charlie’s before doing just that, his own eyes leaking tears.

Now, Charlie wondered if Poe had stopped touching you since that day. Perhaps he simply switched between carrying you and keeping his arm around your shoulders, anchoring you down in safety and love, letting you grieve while keeping you from falling too far into the darkness.

Poe met his eyes across the room, wordlessly asking ‘do you need me?’ And Charlie smiled back, shaking his head. Because Poe was already doing exactly what he needed him to, cooing softly in your ear as you trembled and cried quietly, protecting you while Charlie held up his mother and in turn, she held him up, thanking him for being strong, for loving so hard.

Charlie thought he could love as much as he wanted, it would still never compare to the love between Poe and you. It made him smile.

Poe was walking with Temmin at his side, the contact leading them through the extravagant hallways to the room where their source would pass over the intel promised to the Resistance. Intel that could help track down a man that had something the General needed. He was an ally to the Resistance, not a neutral or ‘for profit’ type but a true ally who pushed through funds for them as much as intel. Coming in person to the casino he owned, dressed to the nines in finery that felt foreign, sitting over a glass of champagne-it was the least they could do.

And Poe had to admit, the moment you’d stepped out of the fresher on the small ship Black squad had taken to come to Canto Bight, he’d become gleeful over the necessity to dress up. Because you were gorgeous, dazzlingly so in a golden, glittering dress, your legs bare, hair styled loose, a touch of make-up on your face. He thought you were so beautiful, and he wanted to tell you but didn’t trust himself to say it right, so he’d grinned before turning away and letting out a low whistle. Calling ‘looking good, sweetheart’ over his shoulder.

They were approaching a large, ornate door that the man leading them gestured toward, indicating their contact was on the other side. Poe thanked him for his help, but before he could move the final steps to the door a familiar sound suddenly entered the hall; BB8 was zooming towards him, beeping frantically.

Exchanging a curious look with Temmin, Poe dropped down to one knee as the droid rolled to a stop before him. Despite Poe’s fluency in binary, he was only catching words due to the panicked, too-fast rate at which the droid communicated. He gathered ‘attack’ and ‘knife’ and wondered if BB8 was telling him you had stabbed someone.

It wouldn’t have been the first time on a mission you’d done so.

“Buddy, slow down, I can’t understand you,” Poe hushed the droid, “Say it again, slower.”

The droid repeated itself, slowly.

Poe was moving before he finished. “Captain, go in without me. BB8, stay with him.” He ordered over his shoulder. He heard Temmin’s worried affirmative reply. And then he was running, faster than he had in his entire existence, blood roaring in his ears. Poe ran because the message was clear.

You were being attacked.

And he didn’t like how BB8 had phrased it, saying you ‘couldn’t breathe'. He didn’t know if he was about to find you with Storm Troopers or undercover First Order fighters, but regardless being unable to breathe didn’t sound like their usual treatment of suspected Rebels. It only drove him to run faster through the twisting hallway, forgetting his expensive clothing or even the importance of remaining undercover, his focus solely on you now.

You had offered to stay behind. Because it was the best option, and Canto Bight was an easy enough place to blend in. So who had made you?

Poe half expected to round the final corner up ahead and find you waiting for him with your enemy incapacitated, or otherwise in a standoff he would have to join in on the fight with.

He never expected anything like what was about to happen.

Before he reached the end of the hall, an ear-splitting shriek filled the air and Poe’s veins turned to ice, his breath catching.

“POOOOOEEEEEE!”

You had never made a sound like that before in your life, and blind, all-consuming rage overtook every facet of Poe’s being-whoever, whatever, made you scream like that was about to fucking die. He came tearing around the corner and his eyes fell on the most gut-wrenching, heart-stopping sight-you, laying still on the floor as a man straddled your chest, one hand wrapped around your throat. A second man stood next to you; both men had their backs to Poe and appeared to be watching you...

Were you dying? Dead?

They didn’t hear Poe coming, neither of them even turned around when he pulled the knife from the inner pocket of his jacket and leapt at the standing man. He slit his throat without thought, already looking toward the man still straddling you, who had released his hold on your neck to peer around curiously. He looked just in time to see his friend collapse to the floor, had enough time to jump back in fear, mouth opening in horror.

It didn’t matter, though. His futile attempt to block Poe only served to aid his aim, so that the knife he slashed out could be thrust down and into the soft flesh between his collarbone and throat. Poe snarled, slamming him back into the wall to ensure he didn’t fall onto you, before yanking the knife out and finishing him off with a firm swipe of the blade over his throat, cutting through the tendons and blinking when a spray of blood landed on him.

Stashing the knife back into his pocket and glancing up at the closed door, Poe stumbled forward and dropped to his knees next to you, adrenaline coursing through his body and keeping his hand steady as he sought out your pulse point. He could already see bruising bleeding over the soft skin of your throat, darkening it, and he felt his rage ebb away into a panic so severe that he almost missed the steady beat of your heart.

“Oh fuck,” He gasped out, a modicum of relief seeping through the panic. He scooped you up quickly, spinning around and making his way toward the hallway opposite the one he’d just come from. He groaned when he realized he wasn’t sure where to go, which door led to an exit-you had the entire place memorized. But you were breathing steadily in his arms, still passed out, and Poe needed to follow his gut on this because you’re life depended on him getting you to the safety of the ship.

He couldn’t cut through the casino, so he opted to simply try each door in the hall ahead until one of them lead to a room with a window he could climb out of. Kare was waiting on the ship, he could send her in as backup once he was out. It was the second door that he shouldered through that lead to him gasp in relief-it led onto a patio, on the ground floor. He glanced around, confirming no one was in sight before tearing off at a run, holding you tight in his arms. Everything was happening in such a blur.

He tapped on his comm, “Kare! Please tell me we have bacta shots on the ship.”

Her voice crackled through in alarm, “What’s happened? We only have spray-“

“Shit!” He growled, “I’m coming back with the Major-she was attacked, get out the medkit and prepare to head to the casino and wait outside for Temmin, he needs to have a backup-“

“You got it, Commander!” She replied swiftly before the line went dead and he knew she’d have switched over to Temmin’s channel to give him the update.

When Poe boarded the ship a few minutes later, Kare was waiting at the top of the ramp and gasped at the sight of you in his arm, passed out. She paused, eyes on Poe “Whose blood is that, Commander?”

“It’s not hers,” Poe replied, setting you down on the only bed the tiny ship had and picking up the medical kit Kare had left out for him, “I killed two men. Make sure Temmin and BB8 get back here with the intel, I’ll have the ship ready to depart.” She confirmed she heard him before running down the ramp and out of sight.

Poe set to work quickly, first tugging a rolled blanket from the end of the bed and covering you with it, then seeking out your pulse to confirm it was still beating steadily. He then uncapped the bacta spray and gently tilted your head back; exposing your heavily bruised throat, and carefully opening your mouth.

“Oh my sweet girl,” He sobbed out, first spraying into your open mouth so that the spray would drip down into your throat and reduce the swelling, then again to the outside skin. It would help, he comforted himself, “My sweet, sweet girl, I’m here. I’ve got you, please, please be okay.” He pleaded, his voice a strained whisper as he stroked your hair gently off of your face, waiting for the spray to do its work. He thinks he kept talking, while his eyes watched your face, every second torture until he saw movement behind your eyelids.

“Mmm,” You moaned out a strangled sound, your face tightening as you registered the pain. Your eyes suddenly snapped open and he saw panic flash there, a fear he’d never seen on your face before that shattered his heart right in his chest.

“Baby,” He whispered, bringing his face over yours so you could see him clearly, “It’s me, I’ve got you, sweet girl. We’re on the ship, we’re safe.” He promised you, dropping his hand to hold yours under the blanket. You gazed at him for a second, then dropped your eyes to search over him and he glanced down, realizing he was...still covered in blood.

“Ah-okay?” You wheezed, your voice was scratchy, but your brows pinched together in an expression that cleared up your meaning.

“I’m fine,” He assured you, leaning down at pressing a kiss to your forehead, “Don’t try to speak until we get you looked at, okay? Does anything else hurt?”

He drew back to watch your face, but you shook your head slightly to indicate you were okay. He cupped your cheeks then, needing to touch you, to feel you alive and warm under his now trembling fingers. You noticed his shaky hands, one of your own coming out from beneath the blanket to reach up and stroke his jaw.

A shuddering, retched sob tore out of him as you did this familiar comforting gesture, attempting to ease his pain when you were the one that had been harmed. Tears no longer threatened, but spilled from his eyes as he leaned over you, his face inches from yours, “My sweet girl, y-you scared me, there, thought I-I-“ He broke off, unable to even say the words. You kept caressing his jaw, the motion soothing to you as well, he gathered from the expression on your face. “I killed them. Both.” He admitted. You responded by merely widening your eyes slightly, then shutting them in understanding.

He watched you for a few moments, then let his own eyes shut as he lowered his head and pressed his forehead to yours, trying to reign in his emotions so that he could get the ship ready to go home. He pulled back when you attempted to speak again, your voice a little clearer thanks to the spray.

“L-love you.”

Poe ran his thumbs under your eyes to wipe away the tears that spilled, “I love you,” He replied, turning his head and pressing his lips to your hand, “So, so much, my lovely girl.”

When Tahla had first walked onto the ship after Temmin and Kare had successfully landed back on base at D’Qar, his expression was so fraught with concern you’d squeaked a little from your spot on the bed, wanting to tell him you were fine despite your voice box rejecting the attempt. Poe had disappeared into the cockpit with Temmin and Kare when they finally boarded the ship on Canto Bight, BB8 in tow, and you think he must have overstated your injury when he’d called into base.

“Well, that sounded extraordinarily wretched, let me take a look,” Tahla joked, his features relaxing, and he sat at your side on the bed. Poe was behind you now, his body acting as your pillow, a comforting position he’d taken up the moment the ship landed and the rest of Black team had departed to get the intel to the General. “This is going to be uncomfortable, but try not to make noise, okay?” His eyes were on Poe when he spoke at first, dropping to you when he posed the question. You nodded your understanding and decided to lose yourself in thought as he gently started feeling along your throat.

When you first came to, the only thing you had been aware of was the pain in your throat. You’d felt movement at your side and panicked, thinking you were still under attack, only when you opened your eyes you instead met the most heart-wrenching sight of your life; Poe covered in blood, looking down at you pale and panicked, his eyes wide with fear. Seeing him like that hurt worse than the pain in your throat, though that was certainly in a strong second place.

When he admitted he killed the men, you regretted only that you hadn’t been able to fight them off yourself, or at least been able to help him take them down. You didn’t want all of that to sit on his shoulders. You comforted yourself at the moment by telling him you loved him, testing the words on your tongue, despite knowing he would take them at their usual meaning and not how you truly meant them now.

But you could wait a little longer to tell him properly.

“Alright, Major. The good news is that you’re going to be okay and the spray will combat any long-term damage to your vocal cords,” Tahla was looking into your mouth now, a light shining in his hand as he inspected your throat. “Bad news is that I can’t administer a Bacta shot this far into the injury, so you’ll have to allow it to heal on its own over the next couple of days.”

“F-fuck.” You stammered, and Poe’s hands, which were clasping your shoulders, tightened fractionally in response. A silent, loving, admonishment. Tahla laughed, stowing away his light before giving you a final once over.

His eyes moved up, meeting Poe’s instead, “That’s not your blood, right?”

“No,” Poe replied, his voice quiet, “No. I killed them. BB8 found me, told me (y/n) was being attacked. They were...I didn’t hesitate.”

Fuck, he sounded so dark and haunted, you wanted to take away his worry, take away whatever memories he had now from the attack. You were tired though, your eyes beginning to droop now that you were home and safe and in the clear of any permanent damage. Tahla gave Poe a nod that suggested his approval over Poe’s handling of the men who attacked you, his eyes darkening for a moment, and then your eyes closed completely.

Poe’s hands immediately moved, adjusting you in his arms. How he was able to tell you were ready to sleep you’d never know. He was lifting you before you could even consider offering to just walk since your legs worked just fine. But you let yourself curl into his hold instead, your face pressing into his neck. He began to walk and you let the gentle motions soothe you further, lulling you towards sleep.

Tahla spoke from somewhere behind your head, where he walked next to Poe, “I’m going to give her a few days off, pull her from the field for a week minimum-I’ll check on her in five days, see if her voice is good enough for the field.”

“Listen, man, thank you for coming. I know it’s overstepping to demand a specific Healer-“

“Don’t worry about it,” Tahla interrupted, “I’m glad you did ask for me. Scared the hell out of me though, Poe.”

Poe sighed, “Sorry about that.” He didn’t elaborate even though you wanted him to explain why he’d caused Tahla to panic, what he’d said to have your friend run into the ship like he thought your head was about to fall off.

You also wanted to thank Tahla for coming, but you were too sleepy. Instead, you let the way Poe carried you to ease you closer and closer to the blissful release of sleep, not realizing until you heard a door whoosh open that the Healer was gone. Poe lowered you onto something soft and you peeked out beneath your eyelashes to find you were in his room.

“Sorry, I didn’t want to wake you,” He murmured, pulling his blanket from where it was folded at the base of his bed to cover you, his hands still shaky. You reached for him then, grabbing hold of his hand, and Poe stilled, gazing down at you. “What is it, sweetheart?”

You cleared your throat carefully and kept your voice as low as possible when you spoke. “Sta-y with me.” You saw the words hit him, his tension releasing so quickly that you think he nearly collapsed as he joined you on the bed, laying cautiously next to you. The only part of him that touched you was where your hand had grabbed him; now, you tugged him closer and shuffled, burrowing into his side and tucking your head into his neck.

You didn’t care that he was bloody or you were both still dressed in the fancy clothing-you just wanted him close. Needed him, not only for yourself but also for him, so that he knew you weren’t upset with him in any way, so that he couldn’t lick his wounds alone and convince himself that he messed up.

You needed him to know that you still trusted him. Always would.

He shifted so that he could circle his arms around you, holding you tight against him and breathing steadily, hard enough that you knew he was fighting off tears again. Your poor, kind-hearted Poe. He took things so hard, loved so fiercely. You didn’t understand how you deserved him when you were young or now. You just felt so fucking safe now, he was all-encompassing safety and love and you wondered again how you could have thought badly of him, to ever have run away.

“Sweet girl,” He started murmuring again, whispers as he stroked one hand over your hair soothingly. You weren’t sure if he knew you were still awake, it had been so long. You remained still, hoping he would never stop speaking so sweetly to you, letting his words lull you. “My brave, beautiful girl. So strong. I’ll never let anyone hurt you ever again. I love you, maker I love you...”

You wanted to say it back, but you fell asleep to the soothing rumble of his chest as he caressed you in the night, rocking away your nightmares and keeping you every bit as safe as he promised.

Poe woke early, light only just filtering in his thin window because he was too warm. At first, he was confused as to why he felt so restricted, so heavy until he looked down.

Stars.

You were tangled around him as he lay on his back, your arm hugged around his waist, head resting just below his sternum, legs entwined with his own. And he was still wearing his suit, the fabric not as breathable as his flight suit, and tighter too. As he gazed down at you, still peacefully asleep, further warmth pooled in his chest and belly.

‘Stay with me.’

Maker, three words and you knocked him clean over and he was ready right then to tell you he would never leave your side again if you asked him not to. But he’d managed to reign himself in slightly before curling around you protectively, unable to keep himself from touching you in gentle, soothing motions. He’d fallen asleep faster than he’d thought he would.

Now, he realized that if you woke up you would find him still covered in the blood of the men he’d killed. He needed to get himself into his fresher and clean up. With slow movements, he was able to extract himself from your grip and climb from the bed. He covered you in the blanket so the temperature change wouldn’t go as noticed and wake you up. He watched you for a minute as you slept, then quietly grabbed a pen and piece of paper, jotting a note down in case you woke up.

‘In the shower. Don’t leave, please.’

He set it next to you on his bed, then grabbed some clean clothing and stepped into his fresher, the door closing behind him silently. He bypassed his mirror, not interested in seeing how he looked, and went straight into the shower, turning on the water and flinching at the brief burst of cold before the temperature evened out. He scrubbed himself clean and avoided looking at the floor, at the swirling blood and grime disappearing into the drain. He had enough images in his head. It wasn’t that he hadn’t killed before, because he most certainly had-both from his x-wing and in ground combat. But he had never taken a life so viciously, so intimately. And it wasn’t how quickly he’d done it that scared him, it was how okay with it all he was.

They were hurting you, at the time he’d thought they’d killed you, he had no choice. No option but to end them.

He considered working in the field with you now, what that would look like. Would he start throwing himself in front of you and breaking protocol as he had in the woods of Takodana? Like he’d gotten angry at you for doing all that time ago when you’d first come back to D’Qar and had taken out that Stormtrooper with his gun levelled at Poe’s head? Was the fight...

Maker.

Was it worth losing you for?

The answer came fast; no, no it wasn’t. And that scared him because he’d always been ready to die for the cause, for the Resistance, to abolish the tyranny of the First Order. You and Charlie and he had all grown up with that single mindset, to get old enough to join and then fight until the war ended or you died.

And now all he could think was that he would rather lose the war a thousand times over than lose you.

When he stepped out of his shower and dried off, Poe was reeling. He was going through the motions-pulling on his socks, his shorts, his favourite tee. But internally he was reminding himself of everything he’d accomplished as a Resistance fighter. Of everything you had. Even after losing Charlie, you both kept fighting without question, for him, for yourselves, for the cause.

But...wasn’t the saying in your family that family came first, then the fight, and then everything else? When had he lost sight of that and forgotten that with great love came the equally great threat of losing it? But he couldn’t just leave, would never even consider it, no and he knew you wouldn’t, not for him or anything. There was nothing in the entire galaxy that would make you stop fighting. Which left Poe with the greatest question of all-what the hell was he going to do?

He didn’t have an answer, not even a vague idea, so he tabled the internal battle he was waging and stepped out of his fresher to check on you. His heart stuttered in his chest when he found you splayed across his bed, head hidden under his pillow, one leg kicked out from under the covers. You had always looked so peaceful when you slept, and memories surface of the countless times growing up, waking in your bed and watching you sleep. He’d usually wake up before you, sometimes he’d sneak out to hang out with Charlie, other times he’d enjoy the quiet and calm of your room.

The last thing he wanted to do right now was to wake you up, and so Poe made his way to his dresser to search through options for you to wear. Even the idea of you going alone into your room to shower and change made his heart drop, his need to keep you safe and close was so great. He picked out one of his shirts, a pair of athletic shorts you could tighten the waist of, and after much debate with himself, a pair of his briefs. He’d let you decide if you were going to wear them-he just wanted you to have the option.

He went into his fresher and set the clothing on the vanity, starting a little when he emerged and found you watching him with bleary eyes. He smiled tentatively, suddenly nervous under your gaze, but after a small pause your face lit up, eyes brightening and smile wide, melting his heart in his chest.

“Good morning,” Poe sat down on the bed next to you, brushing a hand over your face to wipe away stray hairs, “Try not to speak too much, sweetheart.” He gently reminded you, his eyes dropping to your darkened throat.

You made a face, scrunching your nose, and Poe chuckled softly. He watched you yawn before pushing yourself up, moving to sit next to him and raising your hand to tentatively touch your throat. You winced before flicking your gaze up to meet his, offering a small smile, “Hi,” It was raspy and quiet, dry enough that he realized you needed some water. He leaned over and grabbed a glass bottle from his mini-fridge, handing it over to your waiting hand.

He watched you gulp the water down in small bursts, happy to see swallowing didn’t appear to cause you too much discomfort. “How do you feel?”

“M’fine,”

“You up for a shower?” Poe asked, and your eyes widened slightly in response and he started sputtering immediately, heat flushing his cheeks, “I mean-you can shower, I uh, that is, I put some clothes in there for you-and I will wait here. I showered already.”

Stars, he felt about fifteen all of the sudden, embarrassment flooding him over his unintentionally suggestive phrasing. He scrubbed a hand over the stubble on his jaw, glancing at you to find you holding in your laughter, amusement evident in your expression.

Poe rolled his eyes, recovering himself, “Very funny,” But he laughed, cheered by the smile on your face as you climbed out of his bed and made your way into his fresher. Your dress was crumpled and flat from sleeping in it, and your hair a tousled mess.

Even still, you were truly beautiful.

You looked over your shoulder at Poe before closing the door to the fresher, and he patted the bed, “I’ll be right here if you need anything.” He assured you, and a wave of relief flashed over your face as you shut the door.

Poe got out of bed, taking the time you were showering to tidy his room, including making the bed. He thought about everything that had happened and realized he wasn’t even remotely aware of whether the intel had proven as useful as the ally had claimed, having passed it off to Temmin and Kare to get into Leia’s hands. The fact that his droid hadn’t returned however told Poe that BB8 must be helping to decipher the intel, and Poe reasoned he could find out once he’d taken care of you.

When he heard the water shut off in the fresher, he started to fret over how to best do just that. He supposed it would be ideal for you to remain in the quiet space of his room, where you could avoid speaking too often or loudly. He wanted to keep you close...but then the doubt crept in and he began to question whether you would even want to stay with him, or if he was already being too overbearing. Maybe you were right now looking at the clothing he left out for you and shaking your head.

The fresher door opened a few minutes later, as Poe was tying on his boots, eager to get food from the dining hall and bring it back to the room for you both. “Anything you want from-uh...” He froze, eyes landing on you dressed in his clothing, his shirt much too large and-and you’d decided to only put on the briefs, the tighter fabric only just peeking out below the hem of his shirt.

Poe hadn’t thought of a chest band, not until this very moment when he could see your full breasts outlined against the light grey fabric. He swallowed, dropping his eyes to the floor as heat crawled up his neck.

If you noticed his reaction, you didn’t comment. You crawled back onto his bed, pulling a throw blanket over your legs before settling into the cushions happily, “Pancakes. Definitely pancakes, please.” You whispered, voice slightly improved now that you had some water.

It was entirely without thought that Poe leaned across his bed and placed a gentle kiss to your temple, before jumping up and promising to return with all the pancakes he could carry.

Poe sat with his drink held firm in his hand, his eyes flicking around the crowd before he sighed and settled back into his seat. The usual table, though this was the first time he’d been back to the Cantina since the funeral. Tommy and Rico had asked him a few times, of course, but he’d refused, never feeling quite ready to return.

Today though...he’d come because it was your birthday.

He’d have a drink for you. Even though he had no idea where in the fucking galaxy you’d gone.

And it wasn’t for lack of trying, but no matter who he went to, no one could or would give him your new assignment. You’d been clever and covered your tracks enough that you made sure anyone who would have helped Poe couldn’t see your assignment.

He’d never been more miserable in his life, never more angry with himself. He’d said awful shit to you and then disappeared for a few days to collect his head, thinking of how he’d apologize.

He’d wanted to tell you he loved you.

Instead, he broke your heart.

And you up and left before he could even begin to start making amends.

He was on his last possible source at this point, a person he hadn’t even wanted to go to. But Vanya had been kind to Poe, said she could try and see if anyone she was close with had the access needed. He told her he’d be here tonight, having a drink in your honour, if she wanted to stop by and let him know how she’d got along.

He just needed to find you, and then he would say everything he should have before, apologize to you and promise to make it up to you for the rest of his fucking life. He missed you so much it hurt, it hurt more than losing Charlie. You had disappeared in a way that almost made it feel like you had died as well.

He was starting to feel dead inside.

He glanced up, seeking Vanya out, and met the eyes of a woman at a nearby table, who shot him a friendly smile. He gave her what was probably more of a grimace in return, dropping his eyes to his drink. He wasn’t sure he was ready for...anything like that.

After a moment, he looked back up and saw Vanya walk in. She spotted him and waved, beginning to make her way over. As she grew closer, Poe could see the hard set to her jaw and felt his heart sink into his stomach-he could already tell she’d been unsuccessful.

When she sat down across from him, she heaved a great sigh, her eyes casting downward to look at her hands. “I’m sorry,” She looked up at him after a moment when he made no reply, “She’s smart, didn’t leave a lot to chance.”

Poe waved his hand, “It’s not your fault in the least, Vanya. I appreciate you trying.”

“I’m sure she’ll come back, once she’s grieved enough, had a chance to think things through.”

He wanted to laugh, but instead only grunted, “You didn’t get a chance to know her, but she’s more stubborn than...” He broke off and rubbed a hand over his face. Vanya’s face had fallen as the unspoken name sat between them, and he felt a surge of sadness for her-she had really loved Charlie. “I said...well, I don’t blame her for leaving. It’s already been a couple of months, she’s not coming back. I just wish one person in this fucking place could tell me more than ‘she’s alive.’.”

Vanya leaned forward, resting her elbows on the table as she bobbed her head in agreement, eyes kind, “Poe I saw you-both of you-that night when we first met here. I saw the way you looked at each other-“

Poe tried not to glare, frowning into his drink, “Yeah? And what do you think you know now?”

Vanya ignored his tone, unbothered, “I saw how in love you both were. That kind of love...it doesn’t go away. Not forever. She’ll come back.” And with that, Vanya dipped her head and let loose a wave of fresh tears as thoughts of how Charlie was never coming back sat in the air.

He reached across the table automatically and took her hand, squeezing. “I’m sorry, Vanya. Look, thank you for everything. If you ever need anything, you know where to find me, alright?”

She smiled then, her eyes misty, but remarkably already recovering from her emotional moment, just the kind of tough lady Charlie loved. With a farewell hug, Vanya departed and left Poe alone at the table again. He sat for a minute, his drink nearly finished, and thought of all the times he sat here and took for granted what he had. Silently, he wished you a happy birthday wherever you were in the universe and hoped you weren’t even half as lonely and miserable as he was.

When he finally looked up again, the pretty woman at the table not far from his caught his eye again, and this time he smiled more broadly at her, tilting his head in question. She gestured at the seat next to her and after only a brief pause, Poe decided it was time to give himself a break from the monotony of grief and pain and loneliness and just escape for a few hours.

He joined the woman, Smiling in a way that didn’t feel real at all.

“This is nice, me getting to talk and talk with absolutely no interruptions-“

Tahla flinched when you kicked him under the table, and you stifled a giggle. Stars, it wasn’t as painful as when you’d woken up last night, but your throat still hurt. It was stinging, scratchy sort of pain when you made too much noise, but you found you’d been able to hold a low conversation with your friend over the past hour with minimal issues. It was just the laughing that did you in.

Poe had reluctantly dropped you off to the dining hall for an early dinner after you’d spent a good ten minutes convincing him you could handle going to dinner. He’d then been called away by BB8 to see the General, and you’d watched him actually contemplate what to do. It had almost been funny, but it also made butterflies erupt in your stomach-not for the first time that day. You shooed him away with the promise that you’d seek out Tahla or Temmin so that you wouldn’t be alone.

He’d been so attentive since you woke up, setting out clothing, then by bringing you breakfast and lunch and confining you to lounge on his bed all day. Despite your injury, it had kind of been one of the best days you’d had in years. It had felt a lot like old times, curled up in bed with Poe. The silence was comfortable as you read and he typed up his mission report, though the emotions running through you were entirely new.

It was a lot, emotionally, the last twenty-four hours. As traumatizing as your attack was, you felt like you were being best-taken care of by Poe and felt a little overwhelmed at how good he made you feel. He sensed everything you needed, right down to catching you when you’d be stuck on a page for a little too long, your thoughts turning inward, and he’d press a soft kiss to your hair, run his hand over your jaw, whisper sweet words of comfort.

You wanted to comfort him, too, for having to do what he did. For having to suffer through the worry of how injured you were and if you would recover. You didn’t know how to make him feel better, exactly, but you sensed that the more he took care of you the better he felt in turn, so you allowed him to fret more than was necessary.

And every time he touched you? Well, that was the thing, now that you’d encountered darkness where, for just a few moments you thought you were going to die, you realized you needed to tell him how you felt, finally. You weren’t sure how to bring it up, though, and ended up going back and forth in your head all day trying to decide.

“Lost in your head again, kid.” Tahla’s hand came to rest over yours from across the table; you glanced up from staring into your soup to meet his gaze. He looked extraordinarily understanding considering this wasn’t the first time it had happened during this dinner.

“Sorry. I guess I-I’ve never been attacked like that before. I’ve had, you know, guys pinch my ass or whatever and had no problem kicking the shit out of them if Charlie or Poe didn’t get to them first, but this was...” You trailed off and ran a hand over your face, then sipped your water to help soothe your throat as you spoke. “This wasn’t enemy forces, this wasn’t some guy in a cantina too many drinks in with a shit moral compass. This was-“

“Attempted assault,” Tahla said bluntly, squeezing your hand again. You gulped, then nodded, unsure of what to say. “I’m sorry that you went through that, (y/n), I really am. I wish I could say something more insightful.”

You sighed heavily, waving off his concern, “The worst part is that I passed out before I could...and Poe didn’t say what he did, but I saw Temmin’s face when he was getting off the ship last night. I don’t care how he killed them, I just hate that I couldn’t help, that I couldn’t take away some of the responsibility from him.” You had another couple spoonfuls of your dinner, eyes on Tahla as he thought over your words.

“You know,” He began slowly, tapping his free hand on the table, “Poe basically said the same thing to me when he got me on comms last night. That he wished he’d prevented you from being hurt at all, that he failed in protecting you. He was so worked up, so upset, I thought you were close to death. He really loves you.”

Setting down your spoon with a clang, you sat up straighter before, quietly, replying. “Of course he does, and I love him. We’re a team, one of the best. We get the job done, always have. That’s why I’m freaking out, Tahla,” You flinched as your voice raised too high and your throat burned. You switched to a whisper, “He dropped everything mid-mission to save me, then brought me to the ship. He still...He sent in Kare, but it wasn’t exactly protocol.”

Tahla suddenly grinned at you in a bright, knowing sort of way that made you want to kick him again. Your scowl gave you away, “Don’t kick me, I’m just...I can’t believe you don’t see it. Don’t you realize-aren’t you in love with him?”

You blinked across the table; were you that obvious? If Tahla was calling you out, did that mean others, Poe, had figured you out? “Kriff, Tahla, why are you always so fucking blunt.”

“That’s not an answer.”

You glanced around wearily to ensure you wouldn’t be overheard, “I am, but I just got him back so I’m trying to time it-”

“Maker, I bet he tells himself the same thing and that’s why you’ve both been so fucking blind. You realize he cut down your attackers with his knife?” You stared at Tahla in surprise, “Then he carried you back to your ship and freaked the fuck out until he got you here, not to mention how he told the Healer on call to go to hell and only send me to look at you?”

“I-I, but-“ You gaped. You’d known some of the pieces, of course, but hadn’t realized the extent of Poe's panic.

Tahla laughed, not unkindly, “You want to know what we all used to say back home growing up?” He didn’t wait for your reply, seeming to understand from the expression on your face that words didn’t exist for you right now, “We said, ‘never mess with Poe’s girl’. Remember when Gus broke up with you, said some rude shit to you? Well, he ended up with a black eye for it. Poe’s always loved you. And since I’ve been here these past few weeks, it’s like you two are already a couple.”

You still didn’t know how to reply, so you were incredibly grateful when his pager went off and he glanced down before releasing your hand. With an apologetic smile, he began to stand, and you joined him-no longer hungry-and met him around the table. He pulled you in for a hug, his face schooled to a more neutral look when you pulled back slightly to peer up at him.

“Thanks for everything, Tahla. I’ll be sad when you leave next week.” You admitted softly, and his smile grew.

Leaning down, Tahla pressed a chaste kiss to your cheek and then turned his head slightly to whisper in your ear. “I’ll come back for the wedding, of course.”

And with that, he pulled back, winked at you, and then walked off toward the far doors of the dining hall. You had half a mind to follow him and kick him just for the hell of it, the cheeky bastard, but instead, you pushed your seat in and turned to head back to your room, hoping Poe would be done with the General and would give you an update.

When you walked into the hallway and spotted Poe coming along, a weirdly decisive sensation seemed to settle in your stomach, solidifying the moment his eyes found yours from several feet away. His face broke into a relieved, wide grin and that was it, that was the final cord snapped.

It was almost funny.

You saw a modicum of confusion knit his brows together when you suddenly marched towards him, jaw set because you were trying to reign in the intense emotions now bubbling up inside of you. “Sweetheart?” He said, frowning further when you grabbed his arm and started toward the direction of your rooms. You didn’t speak, afraid of opening your mouth and just word-vomiting every thought you’d ever had, and so you pulled him along silently.

Out of the corner of your eye, you could see him assessing you, trying to figure out what set you off, repeatedly opening and closing his mouth as he considered. When you got to the first empty hallway, you couldn’t contain yourself any longer. You halted, releasing his arm and spinning to face him straight on. Poe opened his mouth, but before he could ask you a question, it just...came out.

“I love you,” You sighed it, lower than you’d have liked to say it because of your damaged vocal cords, but he heard you. You knew because he stiffened like a board and his open mouth slackened almost comically. “I-I’m in love with you, Poe Dameron, and I always have been and I can’t hold it in any longer.”

You bit your lip to prevent yourself from babbling, holding his wide-eyed gaze steadily. Finally saying it aloud was about a million times better than it had felt to simply admit it to yourself. You felt like you could float away just for getting the truth out, though a level of anxiety began to grow the longer he stood silent before you. But you knew his eyes, every expression they’d ever held, and you could see that he was processing your words, that they grew brighter and brighter until movement caught your eye and you glanced down to see his fingers twitch, and then he was moving.

Poe reached up and caught your face gently in his hands, closing the distance between you both so that your bodies were pressed together. He gazed at you in wonder for a moment. “Oh my sweet girl,” He crooned softly, and you were melting into his touch, your heart was surely about to burst now, and then- “I have loved you in every eternity that has ever been, and will ever be. You are everything, sweetheart, everything to me. I should have...should have told you so many times before this.”

And then Poe Dameron slotted his lips over yours and kissed you deeply like he’d been waiting his whole life to do it. It was like coming home. You were rooted to the ground now, his kiss anchoring you, his gentle caress over your cheeks sending fire into your veins that conflicted with the euphoria in your mind.

Because Poe, your Poe, was kissing you. Handsome, tall, broad and strong Poe. Your best friend, your soulmate, was kissing you and you didn’t think you could ever stop now. Your lips parted for him the same moment he did for you, and then you were tasting him and Stars, did he ever taste good. Like home-warm, a smouldering fire on a rainy evening. You knew he liked what he found in kissing you when he groaned lightly, his hands settling at the back of your neck and pressing you closer against him, deepening the kiss as your tongues danced, and you whimpered in response.

With a gasp, Poe pulled back and you saw more than love and adoration on his face, now you saw desire too. Real, heated desire.

And fuck, that pollen had absolutely nothing going for it, you saw that now. Seeing just a sliver of what desire truly looked like on his face, you knew it had all been a huge illusion brought on by the poison, during that mission. You were burning under his gaze now, every cell of your body alight and happy to surrender, responding to him before he’d barely moved. His hands were still on you and you realized yours were in fists at your sides so you reached up and did something you’d always wanted to do-sinking them into his curls.

“Fuck,” He rumbled the moment you gave a slight tug, his eyes fluttering closed briefly, a twitch appearing in his jaw. When he looked at you again you swear you burst into flames. “We need to...talk. In my room.” Before you could reply, he stooped and clasped his hands to the back of your thighs, lifting, and you realized he wanted to carry you.

And you were going to fucking let him. You pressed yourself against Poe and allowed him to guide your legs to wrap around his waist, whimpering again when his hands gripped your hips tightly. You leaned forward, wanting to kiss him. You could see how determined he was to focus, to get to the privacy of his room. You nipped along his jaw as he hurried along, grateful the halls were quiet but truly you wouldn’t have cared if he bowled people over at this point. His hands flexed as you kissed him, pressed you even closer against him when you lightly sucked on a spot on his neck that tasted as delicious as it looked.

“Stars, Poe,” You whispered, playing with his hair still. “I love you so much.”

“Let m-me show you, how fucking much I love you, sweet girl.” He panted in response, stepping through the doorway to his room and laying you onto his bed. The door shut and locked at his command, sealing you into the privacy of his quarters. He pulled back to gaze down at you, eyes wide, then reached up with one hand to very lightly trace along your neck. “And no one is ever going to touch you again.”

He said it with such strength and conviction you could only nod, even though it was a tall promise to make given the lives you lived. Because you believed him; that he meant he would do anything in his power to keep you safe. When he lowered himself down over you and started to kiss you again, you relaxed entirely for probably the first time in your life.

Burning never felt so good.

Poe was kissing you. You were kissing Poe. It was, it had to be, a dream. But if it was a dream how could it feel so intense and real and right? How could kissing you possibly be as perfect as this? He felt like he was whole again-like his heart tripled in size the moment you told him you were in love with him and then every moment with his lips pressed to yours only continued to make it grow.

Yesterday he’d almost lost you, or at least thought he had, and now you were tangling your fingers in his hair and moaning underneath him as you kissed, your body trembling. He’d never been as hard as quickly in his fucking life, could feel himself pulsing where he was pressed against your leg. He wanted to be embarrassed but the look on your face when he’d dropped you onto the bed told him you were thinking the same thing as he was now, just as overwhelmed and needy to get as close as possible, skin to skin. To finally tear down every single barrier-mental and physical-between you and come together, be together.

Which was probably why it seemed to take no time to rip one another’s clothes off until Poe was only in his briefs and you were left in the briefs he’d given you that morning to wear.

“Oh sweetheart,” He murmured, his eyes running over your every dip and curve and swell, the smoothness of your skin calling to him. He was laving his tongue over your nipple the first time you cried out, the sound strangled and broken enough that he pulled back and looked at you closely. “You can’t be loud, sweet girl. I want you to, trust me, but you have to be a good girl. We don’t want to hurt your voice any more than it already is, okay?”

“O-okay, I’ll try.”

Poe hummed, “Tell me the moment you want to stop. We don’t have to do anything you aren’t comfortable-”

You slid one hand out of his hair and dropped it between your bodies as he was speaking, coming to grip his length over his underwear. Poe broke off with a hiss, automatically thrusting into your hold. “I’ve b-been waiting my whole life for you, Poe Dameron.” You sighed, releasing his erection and tracing your hand along the planes of his stomach and chest. “Never stop. I’m yours and I never want to stop.”

A possessive feeling, one that had always lingered in the background when Poe was with you, increased tenfold at your words, further driven by what had happened yesterday. He growled before capturing your mouth in another, more fierce kiss, his tongue exploring you as he ground his hips down a little.

When he finally pulled back, you were gasping and even more flushed, your chest heaving as you looked at him. “You’re mine,” He repeated, bracing one arm on the bed and trailing the other down to tease over your centre, dipping below the band of his briefs. “I’m yours, too, sweet girl.” And he locked eyes with you as he pushed two fingers inside of you, gasping out at the blissed-out, contained moan you allowed yourself and the feel of how tight and wet you were.

Your hips bucked when he pressed in deep and curled his fingers, playing with you until he found a spot within that made you just about shoot off of the bed. With a wicked grin, he started to tease that spot and watched your face as you came undone bit by bit for him.

It was the most vivid, raw experience of his entire life. Every single moment soaked into his mind and became a permanent, detailed memory-your little whines and pleas, the roll of your hips, the heat of your slick and how he could smell you, just the right amount of sweetness. It was all so much more than the sex you’d had during the pollen exposure. Every other sense had been cut down and pushed back during that, but now they were all operating on full levels and it felt so right. It enabled Poe to work you through to your orgasm with ease all the while just about ready to cum in his underwear as he did.

“Shit, you are fucking beautiful, sweet girl,” He moaned, adjusting the arm he was bracing himself with so that he could clamp that hand over your mouth. He sensed you were close, could feel your tight walls clenching, and wanted to protect you from harming yourself if you forgot you couldn’t scream. “Cum for me-I’ve imagined it so many times, need to see you cum for real, for me. I’ll keep you safe, go ahead, let go.”

He felt your lips part behind his hand, then your entire body went rigid and you came hard, back arching until a significant amount of wetness soaked his hand, and the bed, and you started to whine and shake from the intensity of it all. Poe growled as you came, glancing down in wonder to see more wetness pool and realizing you were squirting, and he hadn’t known you could do that.

“Fuck, baby, is that for me? You perfect little thing, you are the hottest fucking woman. Holy shit!”

You slumped into the mattress with a huge breath, the warm air hitting his hand and he moved it so that you could catch your breath. With care he slowly removed his fingers from you, looking from your blissed-out expression to your soaked underwear, to your essence all over his hand. He quickly removed your panties, then shuffled down the bed, even more turned on now.

“I just, fuck I need to taste you real quick, sweet girl.” And he dove into your folds before you could respond, taking care to avoid your sensitive nub, and licked you like it was his last meal. You tasted fucking delicious and he didn’t want to stop, pushing your legs apart he cleaned up every drop you’d leaked while you whimpered for him.

“Sh-shit,” You cried, voice low, writhing against his hold on your hips. “Poe, please. Please!”

Poe pulled back, licking his lips, and grinned up at you. “You okay, sweet girl?” You nodded and he rose, eager to get you over the edge again so that he could lick up everything you gave him. “Please what? What do you need?” He crawled back up your body, chuckling when he felt your hands pushing desperately at his briefs.

You cleared your throat, “You. Always needed you, Poe.” You whispered, your voice so filled with emotion you nearly knocked him over. He took over pushing his briefs off and then reached under you with both arms, securing your body before lifting you, changing positions so that you were sitting in his lap. His length pressed against your thigh as you settled.

Poe stroked some stray hair out of your face and kissed you softly, holding you against him and savouring the moment. He’d never been so filled with emotion and pleasure before, every woman he’d been with over the years simply could not compare to the power and love between you and Poe, and it was terrifying. Sensing his apprehension, you drew back from the kiss and stroked along his jaw soothingly and Poe took a moment to simply drink you in.

“I never knew anything could be like this,” He admitted, now running his hands all over your body, pausing to squeeze his favourite curves. You smiled at him, pupils blown wide with lust, your expression telling him you agreed. “I’ve wasted so many years, (y/n). I’m so sorry.”

“No,” You shook your head, dropping one hand to seek out his length and holding it gently in your hand, lining him up. “No, we aren’t apologizing for our mistakes anymore. It’s you and me now, Poe, you, and, m-me.” You lowered yourself, your scratchy voice breaking off into a sigh of content as you slowly sunk onto his length.

Poe had pictured being with you like this many times in his life, certainly more than he’d like the admit. But even combined, none of those fantasies could come close to how it felt to bring your bodies together, the fucking ecstasy, the sight of his cock splitting you open as you slowly took him inch by inch. Your hands tangled in his hair again as a low, continuous whine fell from your lips. Your face was slightly scrunched as you tried to relax and accommodate him, and Poe was enraptured, watching everything with his hands at your hips.

You were devastating. And you were his.

Poe hurled headfirst into oblivion as you settled fully on his lap, a groan escaping as your tight heat clenched around him, and it was all he could do to speak, to just tell you how perfect you were. “Baby, oh fuck, I love you,” He leaned back slightly, dropping one arm to brace on the bed and then gripping your hip with the other. Poe set a slow and deliberate pace with his feet pressing into the baseboard of his bed. He rolled up, then back, his cock dragging halfway out before sinking back into you as you gripped his shoulders and whimpered above him.

It was sensual, soft, each movement like a slow dance, your hips rolling down to meet his in perfect harmony with his thrusts. You were biting your lip, eyes locked on Poe’s, and he could feel you flutter around him every time he groaned; so he let himself make noise, let you hear how good you made him feel, grunting and cursing with every blissful motion.

Even though the pleasure kept mounting Poe didn't want to rush this, so he moved at the same pace for a long time. Occasionally stopping completely when he was fully inside of you and relishing the sensation until you whimpered and he would move again with a grunt. It was divine, perfection...you. It was all you.

“Poe,” You whimpered as you moved one hand from his shoulder to push into his curls, urging him toward you as you leaned down and pressed your lips to his. He kissed you slowly as well, licking into your mouth, over your lips, drinking up your moans, until eventually it wasn’t enough for you and you made a noise in your throat, a little frustrated sound that made him smirk. Made him even fucking harder.

Without warning he sat forward, brought both hands to your hips and slammed you down onto his cock, using his strength to lift and drop you. “Sweet girl,” Poe grunted as your head tilted back in a silent cry, “That’s it, cum for me, let me feel you, baby, please.” He was desperate to feel you cum on his cock, pulling out and then slamming you back down, meeting you halfway as you struggled to hold in your noises, and Poe let loose another round of groans that seemed to propel you straight over the edge.

Your body curved forward as you came, one of your hands shooting to cover your own mouth as you sobbed in pleasure. He kept moving, watching your face rapturously until a strong clench around his cock drew his gaze downward. He had a moment to recognize what was about to happen before roaring in delight as you squirted for him again, the hot wetness coating his lap. The room filled with the wet slapping sounds of your body meeting his and Poe had to actively work not to cum, setting his jaw and gripping your hips with almost bruising strength.

“Ahh,” You whimpered, your legs going limp. Before you could fully collapse into Poe, he flipped you onto your back and started to fuck you into his mattress while peppering you with soothing kisses, “Oh Poe, more!”

He was right there, nearing the edge and yet savouring every deep thrust into your tight cunt. His movements were getting sloppy now, and he wasn’t even trying to hold back his noises because you felt so fucking good and this was so perfect and he loved you so much.

“Oh baby, baby-” He slammed into you one last time, dropping most of his weight down onto you and filling you deeply as he began to cum, his hips stuttering. You were moaning for him, weakened legs hooking behind his ass to draw him closer as he filled you, “I love you, I love you, I love you-“ He couldn’t stop saying it now, his head dropping to your shoulder-careful to avoid your injured throat-he just kept repeating himself between grunts.

As he started to come down from the high, he realized you were speaking, your voice a whisper in his ear, hands stroking his hair. “I love you too, Poe, my Poe,” He was gasping now, everything that had transpired catching up to him in the clarity of post-orgasmic bliss and your words brought his emotions back to the forefront.

He made to move back, only you stopped him, keeping him close. He looked at you, “You okay, my sweet girl?” Stars, you looked fucked out in the best ways and he swore he could cum again just at the sight of you as drunk on him as he was on you.

You nodded, giving him a soft little smile, “Just stay inside me a little longer.”

Fuck, you were going to kill him, you were so hot.

As much as he liked the idea, he didn’t want to stay on top of you and crush you, so he considered carefully before rolling you both, settling himself into the bed as you lay atop him, whimpering at the movement before resting your head on his chest. He’d started to soften inside of you, but remaining in your warmth kept him semi-hard, not something he’d ever done before and yet he decided at that moment he wanted to do it all the time.

“That was...you are perfect, you know that? Dreamt of you my whole life and that was better than I ever could have imagined.” Poe beamed at you when you looked up at him, your eyes bright. He had never been so radiantly happy in his entire life.

You reached up and ran your hand along his jaw, “Says the man who made me squirt. Twice.” You gigged, and he gazed at you for a moment before responding.

“You’ve done that before, yeah?”

When you shook your head, Poe felt a mixture of both surprise and pride swell within him, and you read that in his expression. “Yes flyboy, that was all you.” Another throaty giggle, which then morphed into a full cough as you hit the limit on your poor vocal cords.

Poe was up in an instant, carefully slipping from you and hurrying to his fridge to get you water. He passed it to you and then went into his fresher to get a warm washcloth. You were gulping the water gratefully when he returned, your eyes raking over his body with a level of possessiveness that made his cock twitch. You wanted him to yourself as much as he wanted you to himself, that much was now abundantly clear.

“Alright, sweet girl, let me take care of you,” He whispered, running the washcloth gently through your folds and tidying you up. You cooed softly, relaxing into the bed. When he was satisfied, he lifted you into his arms and carried you into the fresher to set you on his toilet. “You pee, I’m going to change the sheets.” And he wiggled his brows at you, earning him another big smile that settled right down into his oversized heart.

A short while later Poe Dameron was laying in his bed with you held in his arms. This was not the first time in his life that he drifted off to sleep with you, but it was the first time you were both nude and satisfied and so wholly consumed with your love for one another.

It was the first time he would wake in the middle of the night, hard and aching, only to find you already awake and needy for him, moaning when he rocked his hips into you and fucked you slow.

It was the first time since Charlie’s funeral that Poe would sleep entirely at peace, wrapped around his soulmate.

If you thought making love with Poe Dameron was perfect beyond expectations, it almost made it unfair how fucking good he was at eating you out.

You’d both woken late the morning after coming together and felt ready for more-you wanted him inside of you again. Only he insisted he hadn’t gotten anywhere near his fill of tasting you last night. Now he was happily lapping between your folds with his skilled, hot tongue and absolutely wrecking you, one hand clamped over your mouth to keep you quiet because he knew how fucking good he was.

You saw it the first time he’d made you squirt and then watched it solidify when you admitted you’d never done so before. It was hot, seeing the mixture of passion and cockiness, skill and care. You fell more and more in love with him throughout the night, when you came together and fit so perfectly, and now you were about ready to beg him for his cock before he killed you with his mouth.

When you came again for him, you were spent and though you did get wetter, you didn’t squirt. He didn’t mind, eagerly drinking up what you did give him before moving to kiss your thighs, then eased your legs together and began to massage the aching muscles. “Such a good girl,” He praised, his muscular figure drawing your eyes. You hadn’t realized how talkative, how much noise he would make, and it was the hottest shit. His groans were downright sinful, were what sent you rocketing into your orgasms the night before. “I should keep you here all day, wet and ready for me.”

“Fuck,” You replied, the words shooting straight to your core even after all of the orgasms you’d had. You sat up, struggling slightly and Poe reached out and gripped your arms, lifting you in another show of his strength that made you kind of dizzy with lust. “You’re insatiable. But we’re having lunch with Tahla, remember?”

Realization flashed over his face and he glanced over at his wrist comm next to the bed, relaxing when he saw there was still time before lunch. “Shit, I forgot. He’s leaving soon though, right? So I don’t want to bail.”

“Next week,” Poe moved to sit next to you, both of your backs against the wall now. He pulled the blanket from where it had been kicked to the end of his bed to cover you both. “He said something...that sort of made me realize how stupid I was being, right before I saw you yesterday.”

Poe turned his head to face you, his arms circling your waist and tugging you close to his side, “Oh? What did our wise, filter-free friend say?”

You giggled, then cleared your achy throat, “I had said I was going to miss him when he left and he told me he’d come back for our wedding.” You thought Poe would laugh with you, or at least scoff, but instead, he’d gone quiet and his expression turned inward in a way you couldn’t read. You hesitated a moment before tilting your head into his line of sight, though his mind was clearly a million miles away, “Poe?”

He looked at you then, for what felt like the first time in your life because of how intense his expression was, filled with love and something you couldn’t get a read on.

“I’m sorry,” He began, shaking his head a little, “I just...you are the love of my life. I meant everything I said last night.”

Warmth filled you as he spoke; you weren’t sure you’d ever get used to him saying such perfect things to you. Saying he loved you. “I know, Poe, I meant everything too.” You assured him, brushing your hair over his forehead to push back some stray curls.

Poe nodded, his expression still intense, eyes bright, “We’ve lost a lot of time, sweet girl. But I don’t want to waste another minute. I-” He paused, and you were growing increasingly confused. When he suddenly pulled away standing up to cross his room, your curiosity spiked, confusion at an all-time high.

Until that is, you saw what he was doing.

He was pulling something out of the inner breast pocket of his flight suit, lifting a chain and then turning to you back at the bed. He glanced between his hand and you once, stealing himself before dropping down to one knee next to the bed.

“Maybe he won’t have to come back for our wedding,” Poe opened his palm to reveal exactly what you knew he kept in his flight suit, “Maybe he’s here just in time. Marry me, (y/n). I love you and I never want to spend another minute without you. You are my soulmate, so please marry me, sweet girl.”

Your eyes fell from the passionate look on Poe’s face to his mother’s wedding band that lay in his outstretched hand.

34 ABY - Aftermath of the Battle of Takodana - D’Qar

Climbing from his ship with his adrenaline running high thanks to the success on Takodana, Poe turned and gasped when saw his droid, the orange and white blur zooming over to him. “BB8 my buddy!” He cried, dropping to his knees, “It’s so good to see you!” He looked the droid over, happy to see it looked to be in good shape.

BB8 beeped, excitedly explaining what had happened to it, “What? Saved you? Where is he?” He asked, the droid responding quickly and Poe glanced up, eyes landing on the defected ex-Storm Trooper who had saved Poe. Holy shit!

Finn spotted Poe at the same time and began running forward, “Poe?” He called, and Poe rose to his feet and started towards him, still reeling in surprise that Finn was here, that he was okay.

Poe felt himself grin, “Oh no!”

“Poe Dameron, you’re alive?”

Rushing up to Finn, Poe gasped out, “Buddy!” He pulled his new friend in for a hug, “So are you!” And he looked well enough, thankfully, too. Poe had worried he’d been captured back by the First Order after he couldn’t find him on Jakku.

“What happened to you?

“What happened to me? I got thrown from the crash. Woke up at night-no you, no ship, nothing,” Poe released Finn, pointing to him and then to his droid, “Listen, BB8 says that you saved him.”

“No, no, it wasn’t just me-“

Poe stepped closer to Finn, needing the man to understand, “You completed my mission Finn, I-that’s my jacket.” His gaze dropped to the jacket-his jacket- that Finn was wearing.

Finn glanced down, “Oh,” And he started to take it off and suddenly, Poe realized he didn’t need the jacket back, that Finn needed it more.

“No, keep it,” He punched Finn’s arm affectionately, “It suits you.”

Finn stopped and straightened, his eyes roving over Poe once again, “I still can’t believe your alive, Poe.”

Poe laughed, grasping his friends' shoulders, “You’ve got no idea what I have to live for, Finn. Dying ain’t an option.”